The Transformation
by bohemian-rhapsodi
Summary: Hermione finds herself at the mercy of the full Moon... can she really trust anyone with her secret? As it turns out, a particular Potions Professor has the answer. HGSS, AU
1. Cruel Ironies

Disclaimer

This is JK Rowling's territory. I'd be flattered if you thought I owned Harry Potter, but quite frankly, this is just a homage.

Cue 'We're not worthy!', Wayne's World style. (don't own that either)

Authors Note

G'Day, readers!

I won't detain you for long, I promise... just a quick note:

I'm Aussie, be kind to me! Although I've tried my best to avoid it, I'm not responsible for: irregular full moon appearances, non-canon werewolf behaviour, strange times for sunrise and sunset, English school term times. Basically, bad lunar and solar calendar is almost guaranteed. I guess it's my fault for choosing a subject matter with a strict timetable. Please R/R if you notice any inconsistencies!

Without any further ado, here it is...

Friday, October 13th

"_Revokva!_"

Hermione ducked yet another curse, silently praising the Defence training that had honed her reflexes. The world was coming to her in patches of overwhelming darkness and blinding streaks of rainbow light, as the Death Eaters advanced slowly but surely towards Hogwarts. They were putting up a brave fight, Hermione knew; but until the Aurors made it to the battle, they may be overwhelmed...

She tore her mind away from their impending doom and dived behind a handy piece of rubble for cover, blasting a few Death Eaters with Immobility curses before reassessing the situation. As far as she could tell, there were no fatalities- yet.

All she could do was continue fighting, and continue hoping...

Where _were_ they?

**

**

"_Mobilicorpus_," Snape snapped wearily, the spell hollow sounding behind his white mask. He carried the prone wolf form to the cages he had conjured moments before, made of sturdy solid silver bars. The few other werewolves inside growled at his approach, a sound that would terrify most hardened men.

"_Do_ shut up," Was the only response they got from the pale man as he opened the cage and roughly deposited their last brother with a flick of his wand. They continued to howl.

He remembered with a jolt that the fight was continuing behind him beyond the trees of the Forbidden Forest, and it was by no means a fair fight, even with the beasts restrained. He ran carefully over the treacherous ground in almost complete silence, looking to any observer like a seasoned hunter.

He was on the scent of his prey; the Death Eaters. He hoped beyond hope that he was not too late to join the melee, and was rewarded with the sweet sound of battle just ahead of him.

Someone had thought to cast a _Helios_ Charm over the scene, which illuminated all the fighters but, more importantly, revealed previously hidden black cloaked Death Eaters that had used the night as their only cover. Snape reminded himself that he would have to look out for fire from all sides, just as he always had.

He had only immobilised a few of his enemies from behind (he was no coward; rather, he had a sound philosophy of using any means to achieve the right end) when he heard her piercing scream, and a savage growl that he knew all too well.

His heart leapt into his throat even as he sprung into action. Had he missed one from the pack? Had Fenrir Greyback 'recruited' more men that he had ever thought possible? He leapt towards the sound, only pausing to avoid curses that rippled at his hair and clothes in near misses.

He ran flat out, but he was too late.

As if in slow motion, he watched as the girl was overwhelmed by the savage beast, her wand dropping to the grass beside her when the werewolf clenched his jaw around her shoulder. Snape yelled the Killing Curse, carefully aiming at the torso of the animal where the girl could not get in the way. It collapsed on top of her just as Snape reached them. From this distance, he could now identify the student.

Granger.

He cursed all gods of fate; the most promising student of his entire career, brought down by an infection that would most likely destroy any hope being accepted into Wizarding society's academic circles. Add being born a Muggleborn on top of that. Oh, and add the feminine prejudice.

Cruel, cruel fate. It was the nature of war to strike down the innocent along with the guilty, but it always tore at him that yet another life had been lost on his watch. Another family fallen apart, another child left to mature far too early.

He removed the werewolf's head from her shoulder by prising open its jaws, and tried to clean the wound. But he knew the damage had already been done. He quickly dragged her behind a nearby greenhouse, trying to ignore her weak protests and jerks.

She tried to stir, whimpering at the pain. He gently held her down, pulling out a Potion from his coat. "Drink this." He croaked, his voice only just carrying over the sounds of battle. "It'll help the pain."

She opened her eyes, stared at him...

...and screamed louder than a Mandrake on a bad day.

He realised belatedly that he was still wearing his white mask. _Dammit._ He held a hand over her mouth and pulled off the mask in one swift movement. "Stop that infernal noise at once, Granger! Do you _want_ the wrong people to come running?"

She was still trying to squirm away, but at least she wasn't yelling at him. He carefully removed his hand, and she eyed him reproachfully. "You could have done that a little earlier." She said acidly.

"It wasn't the first thing on my mind." He snapped back before remembering the Potion. "Drink." He insisted.

She did so with only a second of hesitation, a decision that prompted Snape to reflect on how trusting of him she appeared to be. In some cases, it would be considered misplaced trust.

"I would usually check the contents of the vial, Professor, but unfortunately I lost my wand." She answered his thoughts with a curt statement.

He quickly _Accio_'ed her wand, and she fingered it absently as she collected her thoughts. "Let's go." She said determinedly, struggling to raise herself. Snape pushed her back down. "Are you insane? You can't fight with that injury!"

She cocked her head to stare at him, her eyes suddenly like flint. "Watch me." She snapped her Professor, the habitual hate of every Hogwarts student kicking in where she had previously been compliant. She shoved him away with considerable strength and crept to the corner of the greenhouse, appraising the situation around the corner with one glance.

"Oh." She whispered, her eyes going wider than Snape had thought possible.

"What do you mean, girl? Please speak with some coherence."

"I mean, Professor, _Oh, Harry just defeated Voldemort_. Is that clear enough for you?" She turned to him, eyes glistening in relief and many mixed emotions.

Snape stood like a statue before ripping his sleeve up with desperate urgency. The Dark Mark was gone. "Oh," was all he could think to say.

Saturday October 14th

Hermione took a deep breath to collect herself outside the doors of the Great Hall. Having spent some time in one of the temporary Hospital Wings with Dumbledore and Lupin on the nature of her condition, this was the first time she was to face her friends since the battle. They were all celebrating, of course; it wasn't every day that Harry was a hero on this scale, even though it had occurred several times in the past. Hermione hoped that she wouldn't be the centre of anyone's attention that night.

Deciding that it was now or never, she walked into the golden hall towards the Gryffindor table. A cheer went up as she reached her seat, a few nearby people patting her on the back while being careful to avoid the bandaged shoulder and the sling. She blushed furiously at the attention, unsure if she was worthy of any of it.

"Hermione! We're so glad the Healers let you out for the Feast... come on, have some!" Ron pushed some food towards her that turned her stomach.

"No thanks, Ron. I'm not..." But he had already turned to another conversation, retelling his version of the events of the Final Battle to several adoring Gryffindor girls. Embellished, of course. _If you actually threw that many spells, Ronald Weasley, you would not be conscious right now._ Hermione thought scathingly, but she really knew the source of her irritation; she had missed the crucial part of the battle. The one that they would be talking about for the next hundred years and beyond.

Instead of seeing the defeat of the 'Darkest Wizard of their time' by the 'Luckiest Wizard of their time', Hermione had been behind Greenhouse Four with her loathed Potions Professor. It hadn't exactly been her day of glory.

Oh, and she was a werewolf.

That was a definite downer.

Sunday October 15th to Friday November 10th

For the first week of the return to classes, Hermione pretended that she was completely normal. Her panic grew as she saw the moon slowly grow every night from the window of her Head Girl room, and sometimes had nightmares that the moon was already full and she had attacked her friends. She had cried a few times; thinking of her future, now dimmed by this twist of fate.

She felt completely alone; she hadn't told Harry of Ron what had happened to her, only that she was hit by a Dark Curse that would make her a bit sick occasionally. If these 'occasions' happened to fall on the full moon, _wow, what a coincidence!_

She knew the facade wouldn't last long. Well, she _hoped_- it was entirely possible that the boys were as dense as she supposed, in which case, her secret would never be discovered.

She took up talking to Lupin long after class, always starting on some innocent topic and usually ending with some wise, confidential advice- from one werewolf to another- about how to live the secret life.

She secretly hated how Lupin tried to comfort her; why was he downplaying the horrible condition? They needed to be realistic, for Merlin's sake. She had her whole life ahead of her- a severely restricted life, as she understood it.

She had no illusions about what prejudice she would face as a werewolf, Muggleborn, female in a predominately human, Wizarding, male world. She shied away from the thought that all her brains would count for absolutely nothing; all her work would come to nothing as she tried to escape the stereotype of Pureblood supremacy, only to discover that nothing about her was good enough anymore.

She threw herself into her studies, and practically lived in the Library at all hours of the day.

It was on one such frenzied and lonely study session on the weekend that she overheard Madame Pince complaining to her faithful house elf and generally subservient servant, Twinky. "All five volumes, plus eight others on the ridiculous subject! That's _thirteen_ books in one transaction! Even Professor Snape should know better than that, but I couldn't dissuade him; why he needed thirteen books on werewolves I will never know..."

Hermione broke her quill with her tense fingers, splattering ink over her parchment which she quickly vanished before it dried. Her hands were trembling suddenly. _Snape was reading up on werewolves?_ Why the sudden interest? There was only one logical answer in her mind; it had something to do with her. She suddenly couldn't concentrate on her work; reasoning to herself that the essay was actually due in a week anyway, she left the Library in a daze.

When she arrived at her room, there was a school owl on her windowsill. It stared at her with its globelike eyes as she ran over and unlatched the window, retrieved the letter carefully from its sharp beak, and read;

_Miss Granger,_

_The Potion must be taken every 7 days up to, and including, the night of the transformation. Professor Lupin has your three doses; one for today and one for every week before the full moon._

_Please follow these instructions carefully._

_Professor Snape._

She realised that he had to be brewing a double batch now; with two werewolves in residence, large amounts would be needed. She noted that he never explicitly stated the name of the potion, though she didn't know why that fact intrigued her.

She decided to visit his office before dinner, entering and being seated comfortably by the greying man with a warm smile and steady hand.

"I'm assuming you're looking for your Wolfsbane Potion?" He asked gently.

"Yeah." _It's fairly obvious._

He quickly retrieved it from a cupboard, pouring half and half into two battered goblets. They smoked faintly, and even that vapour smelt foul. Hermione picked hers up gingerly. "Does it matter when in the day we take it?"

"I usually take it before dinner, but I've been told that it doesn't really matter." He grimaced. "You don't ever get used to the taste; bottoms up, I suppose, and try to keep your choking to a minimum." He downed his in one gulp, trying to hide his disgusted expression.

Hermione followed suit, gagging on the initial taste that met her tongue; but she followed his example and allowed the whole potion to slide down in one motion before coughing and spluttering uncontrollably. "That was perhaps the _worst_ thing I have ever ingested." She groaned. "Let's go to dinner."

"Certainly." He chuckled, holding out a gentlemanly arm for her to clutch on.

**

**

Snape watched the girl secretly from his place on the High Table, noting the slight expression of concealed disgust, as well as the gusto in which she drank her pumpkin juice. It was obvious, then, that she had taken the Potion. He relaxed slightly.

He wasn't sure at first why he had been so concerned over her well being; after the Battle, she had said sincere thanks before running after her weary classmates and celebrating the victory wholeheartedly. But he was sure that the bite wasn't far from her mind, even as he saw her laugh and sing in jubilation; how could one simply _forget_ the life changing experience? Unless she was instead choosing not to dwell on it. Repression was sometime the best course to take.

He saw her withdraw, to the ignorance of her friends; he was an expert at reading people, and so although it seemed that she was recovered, there was something false about her interactions with her Gryffindor housemates.

He tried carefully to avoid deep thought on his motives; he had hardly anything to drive him now. There was no megalomaniacal snake-man standing over him with impossible orders; no Death Eaters to negotiate with; no reports to make to Dumbledore, and no spy activities to perform.

He would actually have to concentrate completely on _classes_.

The boredom was sure to get to him eventually. He needed a hobby.

And, for now, Hermione Granger was it.

**

**

Hermione took to walking around the grounds, sometimes alone, sometimes with Lupin. He would always come down and join her if she walked past the window of his third floor office; they didn't always talk, but he would often entertain her with talk of the old days of the Marauders. Hermione was in stitches over these reminiscences, but she occasionally felt a stab of guilt- Harry should be the one hearing these tales.

But he was preoccupied- it was amazing how much time it could take up- with Ginny Weasley. Hermione was happy for them, of course; she had been encouraging it since their second year. But between Ron/ Lavender and Harry/ Ginny, she was often left out. Not that she wanted to join their double dates or anything, but she was beginning to feel like a fifth wheel.

She began to relish the sunlight hours; when the rays of sun were warm upon her skin, and she couldn't see the moon for the blue dome stretched out above her.

Sunset was a time for pensive thought before the nightmare hours.

She counted down the days with a sense of panic; they weren't sure what effect the Wolfsbane would have on someone going through their first transformation, or if it would help at all. All she could do was wait...

The night before the full moon was a Friday. She had a free hour at the end of the day, spent with the other Gryffindors relaxing in the Common Room. She was sure that Professor Lupin was probably waiting for her to walk by his window so he could give her a pep talk of some sort, but she wasn't in the mood for his constantly sunny disposition. Her last night before the transformation was characterised by sleeplessness and worry. The faint pink scar on her shoulder was burning slightly and it hurt to touch.

Saturday November 11th (full moon)

Saturday dawned early, seeming to know when it was most unwelcome.

She was greeted by Lupin after breakfast; he was obviously hoping to intercept her in the Entrance Hall. "We need to talk procedure." He said pointedly. Hermione excused herself from her friends, and followed him to Dumbledore's office.

Hermione was surprised to see that the Headmaster was not alone; once she knew he had a guest, it wasn't such a surprise that it would be her Potions Master.

"Miss Granger." He said smoothly from his position in the chair by the fireplace.

She nodded slightly. "Professor." She replied, wishing her voice was steadier.

She sat slowly, Lupin bringing over another chair and sitting close to her.

"Lemon Drop?" The Headmaster asked innocently. Hermione refused as politely as she could, remembering one time when she had accepted and forgotten about it in a pocket; a Revealing Charm and a severe shock later found that it was laced with a primitive and barely legal Veritserum-like Potion, most likely intended to encourage truthfulness from troublesome students that couldn't refuse candy. She pulled her mind out to focus on the Headmaster's words.

"Miss Granger, we are here to assure you that every possible precaution will be taken to ensure your safety, and that of your colleagues. We cannot, unfortunately, make use of the Shrieking Shack because of its advanced state of decay and long abandonment; however, an adequate replacement has been found." His blue eyes flickered over to the dark haired man, who sat up ramrod straight and looked Hermione in the eye. "Because of the _uncertain_ nature of your first transformation, I have created a cell in the lowest dungeons that is strong enough for our purposes."

Dumbledore put in, "Severus has volunteered to watch over you for the duration of your confinement, and also discourage others from interfering, which is highly unlikely in any case."

Hermione considered this. "That sounds ideal," she agreed. _Except for the fact that her antagonistic Potions Master was going to be there._ "Do we have a cover story for my absence?"

Dumbledore seemed pleased that she was level headed about the situation. "If all goes well, and you retain your consciousness completely, you should be able to join the students at your normal breakfast time. A little longer, and you could blame it on a sleep in. However, if more time is needed..." Hermione tried not to imagine under what circumstances that would be, "I believe wild Saturday nights are not uncommon among the Gryffindor mob, am I correct?"

Hermione laughed. "Unfortunately, you are not mistaken- but I have never partaken in the... revelry. It would be out of character as a reason for my absence."

She thought she heard Snape snort at that, and she snapped her head around to look at him. He merely slowly raised one eyebrow, so gradually that she wondered how often he would have to practice the expression...

"But of course, Miss Granger." The Headmaster twinkled, returning her attention to him. "Would an extra credit Transfiguration lesson gone horribly wrong, resulting in a trip to the Hospital Wing, be a sufficient cover?"

"Perfect. If McGonagall is willing." She amended.

"I'll tell her, Albus." Lupin put in quickly. "There will be no need to tell her why; she trusts our, and Hermione's, judgement."

"Wouldn't she notice the full moon?" Hermione said sceptically.

Lupin chuckled. "I was on the staff for three moons before she clicked. Believe me, the one time you need this won't make an impact."

"Excellent. It's settled." Dumbledore said happily. "Severus will escort you from your Head Girl rooms to the dungeon cell before sunset; it looks to be a clear night."

Hermione glanced again at her Potions Professor; he was pointedly looking away and at Fawkes, who was preening himself fussily. Hermione wondered what he was thinking...

"Come on, Hermione." Lupin said gently. "Let's get you back to your friends."

Hermione didn't see the contemplative look that crossed Dumbledore's face as they left.

**

**

Hermione hadn't eaten; she wasn't hungry, but she thought it a good idea that she didn't have anything to bring up. Just in case.

She heard the knock on the door, and answered it almost in a dream state. Snape was standing stiffly at her door.

"Come." That was all he said before swooping down the hall in a streak of black. Slightly injured, Hermione followed him through the labyrinth that was Hogwarts. They descended quickly, breath eventually misting as they went below ground. He stopped so suddenly that she almost ran into him, and had to stumble backwards quickly to avoid the awkwardly close distance.

She looked around; not seeing a door, she glanced at Snape's face. He was staring intently at her; as soon as he caught her eye he said, "You must go through the stone here... a door inevitably has weak spots for... you... to target." He tapped one stone of the wall, and it glowed a sickly green in the near darkness. Hermione could see through it into a small room, devoid of furniture, cold and bleak. She swallowed convulsively.

"Here." He shoved a flask at her. "Your last dose." Hermione was proud to see that her hand wasn't trembling as she took the potion. She hardly even made a face at the disgusting contents, which Snape nodded approvingly at (well, she thought that was why he nodded; he wasn't even looking in her direction, but what else was there to nod at?).

"And now we wait." He murmured. Hermione was suddenly reminded of their third year, with the Time Turner incident; she had said the exact same thing to Harry just before they met Lupin as a werewolf, and before...

She suddenly felt a clenching in her stomach, like it had gone rock hard. She gasped and leaned on the wall, sweat covering her brow in a fine sheen. _It was starting..._

"Quickly, get inside. I'll be watching." Snape shoved her through the glowing stone without mercy, only grabbing her for a moment before quickly letting go, as if she would infect him with a single touch. It felt cold as she went through the translucent wall, but once she was inside, she couldn't even tell where the entrance was.

_I'll be watching?_ Was that meant to be comforting in some way? She knew that he was not one for heartfelt speeches, but even that small statement hadn't calmed her to any degree.

She was alone. She was afraid.

But she was prepared for the worst.

**

**

Snape muttered another quick spell at a crumbling stone at eye level; it was a one-way spying spell, so he could check on Granger's progress without her knowledge. Her face was pale, but determined, and he felt a stab of something like pity as she doubled over, clutching at her abdomen.

He watched, his thoughts turning to horror and disgust, as she slowly transformed- sometimes all at once in places, sometimes one bone at a time- until she was a whimpering pile of fur on the floor. Her clothes were in shreds around her, and he had politely looked away at relevant points in the procedure.

From his observations, she seemed to be coping rather well. There was some pacing, sniffing, and the occasional whimpering or half hearted howling, but she was by no means the fully-fledged werewolf in terms of mind.

Granger was still in control of her best attribute; her brain. What happened to her body was irrelevant.

His thoughts chased each other round as he watched through the long night-time vigil, sometimes intensely logical, and sometimes so insane that he physically shook himself to divert his train of thought. Inevitably, his thoughts always returned to the suffering student before his eyes.

By his extremely accurate body clock, it was around five in the morning when the wolf suddenly stilled in its pacing and sniffed at the air. It started shaking, convulsing almost... Snape was certain that the girl would be returning soon.

It was just as painful to watch as before; this time, the human slowly triumphed over the wolf, and Granger could hardly contain her cries of pain as her bones rearranged themselves and her entire being went through metamorphosis. Finally, all that was left was a shivering girl, her skin pale in the half light of the dungeon and her hair in more disarray than normal.

Snape felt only a slight discomfort that she was naked; he was by no means lustful at this point, after such a long and relatively traumatic night. He muttered the same spell that had allowed Hermione access and threw in a blanket he had thought to bring. She recovered and blushed furiously at her state of undress, and quickly tucked the blanket around her slender form.

Snape heard footsteps in the hallway, tearing his attention away from the girl. "Who's there?" He snapped.

"Relax, Severus, it's just me." Dumbledore's soothing tone floated down the hall. Snape relaxed slightly, still on edge after many years of self-imposed paranoia.

"How is our patient doing?" He asked gently.

"She seemed to retain her mental faculties while in the werewolf form. It was, of course, still a painful morphing stage at either end, but she seemed to handle it well."

"Excellent! May we talk to her now? It's incredibly rude to talk of issues that concern people in the next room."

Snape rolled his eyes before allowing the Headmaster and himself access to the room. He allowed Albus to go in first as a comforter, following as a reality check.

Surprisingly, Granger didn't need much comfort. She asked idly if someone could get some clothes, and asked Snape what she had looked like to him in the werewolf state. He answered as candidly as possible, and she seemed calm at his explanation. The only time she showed emotion was when Dumbledore asked her if she wanted to stay down here for her transformations in the future, or if she was happy to do so in her own rooms. She decided to think about it.

Dumbledore insisted on taking her to his office for a quick check up from his Healer friend, which would mean missing breakfast. Hermione was willing enough- as soon as she had her clothes, she pointed out. She summoned her House Elf to retrieve them, and the two men retreated outside while she changed.

"She seemed to handle it remarkably well." Snape admitted.

"Possibly a little _too_ well, Severus... keep an eye on her, will you? Sooner or later it'll come back to bite her- no pun intended. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have not missed a single breakfast in twelve years- I'm not about the start now." He left whistling tunelessly.

Snape shook his head at the eccentricities of the Headmaster before opening the cell entrance, Hermione charging out as soon as the way was clear. Snape assumed that she had felt it extremely claustrophobic after the long night.

"Thanks for staying." She said suddenly, looking directly at him. "It helped, knowing someone was there."

He nodded. "It was necessary... but you're more than welcome." His polite upbringing forced him to say, when all he wanted to do was shrug it off.

He took his leave quickly, his mind turning to the pile of marking set aside for the day.

**

**

Hermione watched him leave, the only person who had shared her terrible night, and wouldn't look at her differently than before. It wasn't that she didn't have faith in Harry and Ron; she knew that they wouldn't _mind_, particularly, but it would always be on their minds. She would no longer be 'Hermione the bookworm and know-it-all'; she would become 'Hermione the intelligent werewolf'. She didn't want that label.

Lupin understood all too well what it meant to have that forced upon him, and she didn't want to go through that.

_Some would call it denial_, a cynical voice said, but she shoved it back.

Some things could wait.

She walked the rest of the way to the Headmaster's office after leaving Snape, shyly introducing herself to the retired Healer. Healer Crocco was a short, plump witch with a quick wit and steady paper skinned hands. Hermione liked her on sight, and the examination took very little time to complete.

She could hear people going through the corridors after breakfast; she excused herself from Healer Crocco and walked the short way to her chambers. She quickly freshened up and joined the other for a walk around the lake, expecting Lupin to intercept her on the way.

_He is going to be insufferable..._


	2. Chance Meetings

A/N: Reviews are much appreciated!

Monday November 13th

Surprisingly, she didn't see him on the Sunday; however, Defence being their first lesson on Monday, he would be unavoidable.

She was right about that; she was barely in her seat next to Harry and Neville when he gave her a visible smile, and a meaningful glance that she interpreted as '_we need to talk'._

She only half listened through the lesson, taking notes mechanically and allowing others to stumble around the answers to his questions. Only Neville noticed her faraway expression, but he didn't have the courage to ask her. He'd had bad experiences with girls and their moods...

The lesson was over far too quickly; Harry turned to her and said, "Are you okay? You're looking a bit pale..."

"I can't really sleep." She made a face. "I think my schedule is catching up to me."

Harry chuckled. "Don't let it get too bad, Hermione. Everything in moderation."

"Your version of 'moderation' involves doing as little homework as possible, and more Quidditch flight time than the average owl." Hermione grinned. "But I'll take it under advisement."

He nodded. "We have Charms next... coming?"

Hermione's eyes flickered over to Professor Lupin, who was cleaning up his papers in exaggeratedly slow movements. She replied casually, "I have to talk to Lupin. Catch up later?" Harry nodded, looking slightly puzzled as he joined Ron and Lavender on their trek to Charms.

As he pulled the door closed, Lupin motioned for her to join him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah... a bit of a headache, a few bruises... I can remember most of the night and some of the morphing, but it was unproblematic overall."

The expression of relief on his worn face was immediate. "Excellent news! Remember to see me for your doses every phase, watch the calendar... your senses should start sharpening soon, which can come in useful." Hermione laughed, sure that he was remembering the Marauder days.

"Thanks for your support, Professor..."

"Please, call me Remus!" He insisted. "We're in this together, Hermione... never forget that."

**

**

Harry wondered what they were talking about as he followed Ron to their class... he had caught the start of their conversation; _Are you okay?_ Was Lupin concerned over her workload, or was it something else?

**

**

Charms passed uneventfully (or, as uneventfully as Temporary Invisibility Charms could be; invisible tables could really bruise the hips) and it was soon time for lunch. They were all talking about an upcoming Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin, which promised to be extremely competitive despite the forecast of rain. Hermione listened to the boys (and Ginny) hotly debate tactics with a fond smile on her face.

That afternoon was double Potions. Hermione was pretty certain that, even after the events of last night, she would see no mercy from Snape, nor any extra attention at all. It was to be expected, after all; his hatred of werewolves, and in particular Remus, would mean that cruel treatment would be even more merited.

They descended into the dungeons slowly, both unwilling to arrive and terrified of being late. Hermione took her habitual seat in the station beside Neville, waiting in trepidation for the man.

His entrance stopped several hushed conversations in mid sentence, his cloak whipping Hermione in the arm as he swooped past. She gritted her teeth and resolved to be, if possible, 'meek' throughout the lesson.

He flicked his wand at the board, and the name of the Potion, its method and its ingredients was scrawled across in his spiky script. _The Roustin Draught_. Hermione recalled instantly all the information that she had read about this particular Potion, running over the steps in her mind.

As she mentally reached the preparation stage, her mind stumbled. _Oh, no._ 'Step 4: Sliver the lotus roots with a sharp, entirely silver knife...'

Silver.

She looked in horror at her Professor, who was surveying the classroom with a stern gaze. She silently begged him to look her way...

"I assume you have all examined this Potion before my class- a forlorn hope, let me assure you- and would know why it is useful for..."

He stopped in mid lecture, suddenly stilled beside his desk. His eyes flickered towards her for one endless instant- _please, please let him realise..._ before turning back to the board. To Hermione's intense relief, the information was wiped and replaced with another task altogether.

He cleared his throat. "Unfortunately, we have no Knappa Essence in store, so we will be completing the Flaros Powder today."

"The Flaros Powder is a basic detection and elimination tool for determining harmful additives to most foods and beverages. This was particularly useful in the Goblin Wars, when poisoning neighbouring Barons was a fairly common pastime... "

Hermione had never been so grateful for the sharp mind of her Professor; it was usually set against them, not in her favour.

She had boiled down and filtered the mixture into the fine grey powder required, bottled her sample, and cleaned her workstation half an hour before the lesson had finished. She tried to look busy by polishing her vials and flasks until they positively shined in the gloom of the dungeon, but it wasn't long before Snape realised she was finished.

He stopped beside her cauldron, turning ever so slowly towards her neatly labelled sample. "As usual, Miss Granger, hastiness to prove yourself to your classmates has resulted in a suspiciously prepared potion." He snatched it up, looking her in the eye. "Take more care next time, Miss Granger. Hurrying through the lesson will not be tolerated." There was a flash of something softer in his eyes; _take more care next time..._

That would usually sound like an insult. To Hermione, that was a message telling her to be prepared for compromising positions, in which silver would most likely be involved.

The bell rang not a second too early, allowing the scramble to the surface.

**

**

One thing Hermione reflected on that night; he had realised the silver component and its implications before he had even looked at her. Therefore, he had remembered on his own. Therefore, he had been thinking of her.

She didn't know why that thought seemed so comforting.

Saturday November 18th

As promised, the weekend of the Quidditch match was verging on sleet. The buffeting winds would prove extremely difficult to over come, and any ball intended to fly in a straight line would inevitably curve away. Even Harry was relieved that he wasn't playing in those conditions.

Hermione wasn't pleased to find that her Drying Charm wasn't protecting her as well as she had supposed; she muttered curses to herself as she tried to find her seat in the stands, weaving her way through the maze below the Gryffindor stands to find the correct stairway.

"Miss Granger."

Hermione jumped at the voice, and almost whipped out her wand. She recovered quickly to face Professor Snape with some dignity. "Sir?"

His cloak was dripping onto the floor, its thick woollen mass seeming to protect him well from the elements. Well, at least his teeth weren't chattering like hers.

"I have a proposition for you." He said in a low tone. "It's crucial that your _friends_ do not interfere."

"I'll consider it, Professor." She said cautiously.

His eyes flashed, but he was soon back in control. "You know, of course, that the Wolfsbane Potion is not-"

"Professor! Sorry to interrupt, but is this really a conversation to have in public?" Hermione was horrified at her forwardness, but he had to be stopped before...

"Yes, of course." He muttered stiffly. There was a pause in which Hermione decided to act.

"_Muffliato._" She commanded without thinking, and the spell settled around them.

"Well picked, Miss Granger." Snape hissed.

Hermione suddenly realised what a stupid decision that was... it was _his_ spell! _The Half-Blood Prince!_ She stood there, petrified.

"Never mind. Back to our previous discussion... I have been endeavouring for many years to manufacture a complete cure for lycanthropy. I'm sure that, as one so afflicted, you would have certain interest in the results of this experiment." His mouth twisted, and Hermione was reminded of the silver incident. He actually cared that she was a werewolf? "It would be highly useful for you to be involved in the process."

"Are you asking me to assist in your brewing?" Hermione said incredulously.

"Mainly research. Theory. Preparation, in a small part. But yes, you would be my Assistant."

"Why not Professor Lupin?" She asked, again berating herself for her big mouth.

"I don't see why that is relevant, Miss Granger. Take my offer or leave me." He snapped.

Hermione's thoughts were in turmoil; she quickly gathered them, and found herself replying, "I would be honoured to assist you, Professor."

"Very well. First session tomorrow, ten o'clock in our regular classroom. Please be punctual."

She senses the end of the conversation, but she wanted to say something before ending the Muffliato. "Sir... the Potion the other day, I just wanted to..."

"No need to thank me, Miss Granger; the revelation would have been highly disruptive to the classroom at the least."

Her only reply was, "_Finite Incantatem_." He smirked and walked away, impassive as ever.

Afterwards, Hermione couldn't even recall who had won the game.

Sunday November 19th

Hermione arrived at the dungeon exactly on ten o'clock, dressed in more practical Muggle clothing than her large school robes. She hoped that he wouldn't mind...

"Enter."

She did so cautiously, noting that the classroom was deserted. She walked straight through into his office, where he was sitting behind an impressive pile of essays, using more red ink to mark them than most teachers would go through in a decade.

She stood expectantly until he sighed and looked up at her. Hermione was struck by how... _tired_... he looked; there was a hooded quality to his eyes, and a pallor to his skin, which she knew couldn't simply be his lack of sunlight.

"As you will be working on this project in my private laboratory, I would expect you to demonstrate the restraint usually lacking in Gryffindors when carrying out your research. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir."

He stood up and opened one adjoining door with a flicker of his wand. It was a relatively small room, with only a few spare desks and a half-empty bookcase. One of the desks had a pile of parchment and some books on its surface.

"This will be your workstation. All the books you will need are in this room. If you require any from the Library, I will retrieve them for you. We will not be _touching_ the required ingredients until we have a working formula."

Hermione nodded, wondering what progress he had made already. She gave voice to her thought. "How much have you achieved so far, Professor?"

"I have made notes on possible ingredients, effective procedures, and the reasons for failure of the previous attempts by several wizards. They are also on the desk. Good luck, Miss Granger."

He stalked back into his office, leaving the door between them open. Hermione shrugged at his behaviour and decided to get to work.

She had been poring over one particular tome for two hours before she found a single reference with any merit whatsoever, but she was determined to separate the chaff from the wheat and get the desired results. It may only be an interesting side project for Professor Snape, but this was personal. She _needed_ to find the solution.

She had to ask. She didn't care if he snapped at her, yelled at her, or gave her Detention. He wouldn't take her off the project. She hoped.

"Sir?" She asked, her voice husky from slight disuse.

"Miss Granger." He acknowledged.

"If I may ask, sir, what drew your interest to this experiment?"

A rustle of parchment preceded his answer, floating ghostlike through the doorway. "Why, I thought that would be _obvious_, Miss Granger. I wish to help all those _poor_, _afflicted_ souls out there who are suffering at the hand of extreme prejudice." The sarcasm was dripping off his terse answer.

"You feel_ sorry_ for werewolves?" Hermione asked dryly. "Isn't that a bit..." She was going to say 'out of character', but she trailed off.

"I assume you are referring to my obvious apathy towards Mr. Lupin." Hermione heard a chair being scraped back, and the man himself entered the room. She felt very small from her seated position, but she couldn't stand now.

"Partly." She admitted.

"Let me explain then, Miss Granger, if only to clear the air and allow for the most efficient research environment possible. I do not loathe Mr. Lupin for his condition. I admit that I hated him before I discovered his secret, but that is not the sole reason either. He hides behind his 'misunderstood werewolf' persona in order to gain sympathy wherever he goes, rather than hold his head up high and inject some pride into his sorry half-life. I have known admirable werewolves in my time, Miss Granger; the thing that stood them apart was how they did not let their condition rule their lives, even when they were publically humiliated and refused occupation. Lupin has resigned himself to being the scum of the Wizarding world. It would be entirely out of character for me to bolster this view, so while I would rather hate the _man_ behind the _monster_, I behave as if I hate his condition in order to allow his over-inflated view of himself to be injured by the cruel injustice. Does that answer your question?"

Hermione quickly shut her mouth, which had fallen open during his quiet but powerful tirade. "That _does_ explain a few things." She said weakly. Another thing fell into place. "So in regards to myself, you would rather see me friendless, penniless and with a ruined reputation than lose view of what it really means to be Hermione Granger."

He considered this. "Correct assumption, Miss Granger. And if that ever were to happen, I would be incredibly surprised that you had not talked your way into all of those things."

Was that a veiled compliment?

"Get on with it, Miss Granger. This philosophical chatter serves no purpose."

_You're wrong... it helped a great deal._

Monday November 20th to Saturday November 25th

Hermione watched the waves on the lake's ebbs and flows, feeling the serenity of the water come over her. She had found a particularly comfortable, flat rock that often retained the heat of the sun by the time it became the evening to use as a place to think. She found that she had never really stopped long enough to focus on herself, empty her mind of all the trivial details the make up academic life. When she was in her reflection place, on her rock, she could think clearly.

The question was... what did she want to think about?

The first thing that came to mind was to contemplate Snape.

She had always admired him from afar, never giving voice to her respect; the boys would have crucified her for even mentioning anything positive about their hated Potions Master. Hermione had always trusted Dumbledore's judgement, and he had proved it right in the last battle. His actions had absolved him, but no one's attitude towards him had changed; Hermione thought it would be because no one knew how to be civil to the decidedly prickly man, or whether they should treat him differently to negate their guilt of his suspected disloyalty.

Either way, nothing had changed in peoples approach to Snape. Even Harry and Ron had only shrugged as he was commended for his bravery in the Final Battle before criticising him for his attitude in Potions and towards Gryffindors. It made Hermione want to scream; who _cared_ how unpleasant he was to them? He was a war hero, and the battlefield was the only place where he really mattered to most people.

They couldn't see past the monster, and see the man.

How ironic.

"Are you okay, Hermione?" She heard a soft voice. It was quickly identified as Ginny, who had come out to watch the sunset and seen Hermione by the lake alone.

"Define _okay_," she sighed.

"What's on your mind?" The red headed girl asked gently, crouching beside Hermione's rock. "NEWTs?"

Hermione laughed. "No; I know that they're really important, but I just can't bring myself to worry about them... it's something else." She came to a decision; Ginny could be her Gryffindor confident, the only one that could know. She could cover for her at full moon, be her comfort... Yes, it was right to tell Ginny.

"Hermione?" She said again, after a long silence.

"I'm ready to tell you." Hermione whispered. She cast _Muffliato_ before beginning.

"What do you remember of the last battle? Or, in particular, what happened to me?"

Ginny frowned slightly as she recalled. "I remember coming out of the Entrance Hall with you, but I went left and you went right. I didn't see you again until after Voldy went down, and we were all celebrating... Your shoulder was bleeding heaps."

"Something happened in the middle of that. Something that I haven't told Harry, or Ron, or anyone."

Ginny was silent, noting how difficult it seemed to be for her friend.

"Snape had been rounding up the werewolves, as you know, but... he missed one."

"Hermione, you're not..."

She watched a range of emotions play across Ginny's open face. Shock, horror, betrayal, understanding.

"Is there anything I can do?" Ginny said hopelessly, grabbing Hermione's hand.

Hermione smiled, trying not to cry at the statement. _There's nothing you can do, and you know it..._

"I'll need some cover every month or so." Hermione said dryly. "And the boys _can't_ know."

Ginny looked surprised, but she nodded and respected Hermione's decision. They fell into a comfortable silence, sharing in the bond of friendship and joint experience.

**

**

Hermione continued in this manner; normalcy of classes, minimum of contact with most of her colleagues, and the occasional chat with Lupin. The day she most looked forward to, however, was Sunday, when they could work on what Hermione secretly called 'Project Wherewolf?'.

They had settled into a routine; Hermione would find relevant references, note them, and try to integrate it into what they had already decided as a channel to pursue. They aimed to, rather than erase the condition altogether, repress it in a way similar to the Wolfsbane Potion- except the transformation would also be blocked entirely.

They had procured a Charmed Parchment which detailed their formula so far; adding or subtracting ingredients would change each property, often presenting problems which they would then research and counteract. It was a long process with some fierce arguments (most of which Snape won) and the occasional Time Out. Hermione enjoyed it immensely; for once she was actually applying her knowledge, not merely spouting written knowledge as a means to an end.

She would have liked to think that there was a marked change in Professor Snape's behaviour; but he remained the snarky, short tempered Potions Master of old. However, she could see a change in his attitude towards her as a student. He no longer used lecture as a tool, instead employing debate. It often ranged far from the object, but their discussions were stimulating and hotly defended.

Sunday December 4th

It soon became apparent to both student and teacher that they would need to experiment with the combinations they were proposing; some hadn't been attempted previously, and as much as Arithmancy could usually predict the results of each blend, they didn't want to risk it.

Neither of them broached the subject, however, until it was unavoidable.

"I guess I'll have to make a trip to Diagon Alley." Snape said in obvious loathing. "The damn Apothecary won't even send Harpy skin by owl."

Hermione was about to comment on the virtues of fresh air and sunlight, but a glare killed it before she could give it voice. Instead she said, "I could only get them over the Christmas break; it's not that far away..."

"And by the time we work on them after the holidays, they would have become useless." He snapped. "We need to buy them as soon as possible, and finish the preliminary experiments before the Christmas break."

"Maybe we could get Dumbledore or somebody to go for us?" Hermione suggested.

Snape snorted. "The Headmaster's forte is _not_ in selecting Potions ingredients. He would be skinned alive by the shopkeepers."

"Hark, do I hear my name?" A jolly voice came to both of them.

Hermione jumped, and was amused to see that Snape also jerked slightly. She saw his look of resignation and despair before he turned to the Headmaster. "Albus."

"I heard of your predicament whilst loitering outside your office, Severus." He said cheerfully, not seeming to be embarrassed at being caught out eavesdropping. "May I suggest that you proceed to Diagon Alley next weekend with my express permission?"

Hermione thought, _I didn't know teachers needed permission to le... oh, he means that _I _would be going as well._ "Surely there's no need for both of us to go." Hermione said, noting that Snape would most likely wish to go this one alone. He would see her attendance as 'babysitting duty' or some such.

"Nonsense! This is a joint venture after all, Hermione. And you may learn much from the experience!"

Snape was looking more murderous at every word from the Headmaster's mouth, but Dumbledore seemed impervious to it. When he was sure no retort was forthcoming, he said quickly, "Excellent! It's all settled then? Your outing will be from 11am to 3pm next Sunday. I hope that time is sufficient... good! Well, I bid thee good morrow!" He bounced away with more vigour than one would expect from a man as ancient as Dumbledore.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence from the pair. Hermione thought she could almost hear him gritting his teeth.

"Nothing for it, I suppose." Hermione said idly. "How much Gryffen claw do you think we need?"

**

**

Sunday 10th December

The day of their excursion to Diagon Alley (Hermione refrained from calling it a 'shopping trip' at the risk of losing her sanity) dawned cold and on the verge of snow. Hermione had attempted to put in some genuine work before their outing, but soon found herself layered up in her woollens, cursing the weather.

"Good luck." Ginny murmured from the corner of her room, closest to the fireplace. "Please come back in one piece."

"I'll do my best."

She stood in the Entrance Hall, which was cold despite the several fireplaces in the massive space. _Hurry up, Snape._ She thought she heard him coming, his distinctive tread betraying him before he rounded the corner.

"Good morning, Miss Granger." He made no apology for his late entrance, only glancing around the Hall before smoothly escorting her to the massive front doors. Frost crunched underneath their feet as they made their way to the edge of the Anti Apparation barrier, and the barrier of Hogwarts.

Hermione knew it was a small thing, but she felt a surge of satisfaction as they left the school's jurisdiction; she wasn't quite so institutionalised that she didn't appreciate a break. Not that she had told her classmates as much...

"Hold on to me." He snapped.

"What?"

"I am assuming that you do not possess your Apparition Licence. Therefore, Side-Along Apparition will, unfortunately, be our sole form of transportation."

Hermione felt a surge of amusement that she could catch him out in this instance. She decided to protract his suffering. "Oh, I can Apparate perfectly well, Professor; thankyou for your concern." She wanted to smile sweetly, but decided against overdoing it altogether.

He seemed taken aback. "Then you are, in fact, seventeen?"

"I'm eighteen, actually." She said absently.

"You're insinuating that you repeated a year of Hogwarts without my knowledge, Miss Granger? Or did we accept you at a later age?"

She could see he was trying to keep the upper hand, but was genuinely curious. "Neither. The use of a Time Turner is considered an adequate reason in bureaucratic Ministry circles for the extension of my official age."

He looked at her in obvious surprise. "A Time Turner? Hmm..." It didn't take him long to figure it out. "Third year?" He straightened himself. "No matter. It is irrelevant. Please keep it accurate; the Leaky Cauldron should do."

Hermione saw him Disapparate wit a dramatic swirl of his cloak, rolling her eyes even as she turned and concentrated.

She was pleased to see that she had appeared a few feet away from Snape, in almost the same position in which they had left. He didn't comment on this accuracy, instead motioning for her to precede him out the chamber designed as an Apparation point.

They walked quickly through the inn, past the brick archway, and into the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley.

It was incredibly busy; every witch and wizard seemed to have converged simultaneously with the aim of some last minute Christmas shopping. Hermione found it hard to make any progress through the crowd as she found herself buffeted around. Some people had even cast Barrier charms around themselves to allow for personal space, which often bowled others over without reason.

It was pandemonium. No wonder Dumbledore didn't seem concerned that people would see them together; Hermione could hardly see herself in the crowd.

"For Merlin's sake." She heard her sullen Professor hiss. "This is _exactly_ why I was against this whole venture."

"What do you suggest we do? The Apothecary, if I rightly remember, is at the _other end_ of the Alley. I f we want to get there by evening, we might as well go for it and meet up there."

"That plan would imply you being alone for an extended period of time; as much as I would like to by rid of my students, I do have a certain level of responsibility. I am _not_ letting you out of my sight."

"Fine." She snapped, the rising noise of the crowd starting to give her a headache. "What do you think?"

"I think you should follow my lead." Without any further ado, he grabbed her lower arm in a firm grip and began to stride towards their destination with definite resolve.

To Hermione's surprise, he found it much easier to navigate through the crowd than she had; she assumed that most of these shoppers were Hogwarts graduates, and had some innate mechanism that allowed for Professors to be at a respectful distance- for fear of losing House Points. Especially Professors like Severus Snape.

From there it took them barely ten minutes to arrive at the Apothecary. They almost burst into the shop from the squeeze outside, Hermione puffing from the effort she had to make to keep up with her Professor. He was still holding her arm; she decided to draw his attention to the rather awkward fact.

"Uh, Professor... can I have my arm back now?"

He dropped it like it was a dangerous creature before clearing his throat uncomfortably. "So... to business."

Hermione was impressed at his methods as he bargained with the shopkeeper over every purchase; there was a penetrating quality to his questions, and the poor owner gave up trying to lie within minutes of their initial conversation. By the end of the hour, the man was so flustered that he needed a Firewhiskey.

"I trust that this was... _educational_... Miss Granger." He said once outside the shop with their bulging bags, seeming to be in good humour. "We can't have the Headmaster contradicted."

"It actually was, sir. I had little idea that the bullying of poor shop assistants could be so amusing to watch."

He snorted, in what Hermione was beginning to think was his only expression of mirth. "He was small time. Imagine not knowing that chimera scales couldn't be immersed in liquid as a preservation technique without severe effects on its qualities."

"Imagine that." Hermione agreed wryly, and they soon settled into a rapport about what he had said in the shop and why; Hermione came away from the conversation with a new respect for hagglers.

"I believe we may be getting back to Hogwarts..." Hermione said regretfully.

"Don't be ridiculous. We have until 3 o'clock, and I intend to spend that time wisely." Hermione followed him into a bookshop, where they had another heated (but whispered) debate on the relative merits of the philosopher Dethort, before both buying a few books on various subjects.

"Lunch time, I think!" Hermione heard a witch beside them exclaim loudly. Hermione looked at the Professor, wondering if his plans included food. She really was very hungry...

"All in good time, Miss Granger." He said, amused. It was a few minutes later when they had settled into a smallish cafe that Hermione had often overlooked, being beyond Gringotts in the section of Diagon Alley she rarely had need to enter.

She decided on some tomato soup to hold back the cold, tapping her wand on the menu when she had made her decision. The meal appeared on the tabletop, and its smell started to make her mouth water.

She put down her menu, ready to tuck in- then she saw that Snape had ordered the same soup.

He hadn't noticed yet, but as soon as he looked up...

He looked up.

There was a slight pause, a twitch of the jaw, and then he calmly began his meal.

Hermione was struck by the surrealism of the situation; who would have guessed that she would be having lunch for two, with Professor Snape, and actually enjoying it?

She made short work of the thick hot liquid, feeling its 'magical' warming qualities spread to her chilled fingers and toes. They finished at about the same time, saving Hermione from another awkward moment.

Hermione reached for her purse to put in the Galleons required, but Snape was faster. He threw a few gold coins in the dish at the centre of the table, which immediately vanished and were replaced with bronze coins for change. He glared at her, most likely to warn her that any protest wouldn't be taken well. Hermione swallowed her pride, retrieved her coat, and followed him outside.

The sun had come out briefly, taking the edge off the chill that filled the Alley. The cobbled street didn't seem as crowded as before, so Hermione didn't have that much trouble weaving through the crowd following the extremely visible Professor Snape.

They Apparated back to the castle and walked back up in complete silence, which seemed even more deafening after the din of Diagon Alley crowds.

Snape spoke once they were almost at the Entrance Hall. "I will deposit the ingredients in my laboratory... we may work on it next session. Until then, Miss Granger..." He inclined his head, surprising Hermione; since when had he been respectful to students?

"Thankyou, Professor. I was honoured to..."

But he was already walking away.

_Bastard._ She thought, but there was no heat in it.


	3. Creeping Barrage

A/N: Thankyou everyone for your kind reviews! In response to one of them, this story is completely finished—it's just up to me to update regularly :-)

**

**

That night, she sat with Ginny and just looked at the moon. It was almost full; only a small sliver was missing which made it slightly asymmetrical. She didn't quite fear it, as Remus did; she knew that he only feared it as a symbol of what he was, but Hermione wasn't scared for herself.

She didn't want to hurt anyone...

"It'll be fine, Hermione." Ginny said gently. "Dumbledore wouldn't let anything happen."

"I know, but it doesn't stop me worrying. I don't know how I'd ever forgive myself if I did."

"Do... do you know who it was that bit you? Do you mind talking about it?"

Hermione swallowed. "I think I need to talk about it... he wasn't really a Death Eater to begin with... his brother was in the Inner Circle, and he was kind of drawn into it. Not very good at wand work... as it turned out, he didn't need to use it much." Her tone was bitter, and she tried to keep the acid out of her voice. "He volunteered, in the end; Snape remembers the meeting where four men were 'introduced' to Fenrir Greyback, and they were forbidden to scream as they were bitten."

She continued, knowing that she needed to get it out all at once. "He had a son here at Hogwarts, a Ravenclaw in the year above me. I've talked to him, he seemed nice enough. Unfortunately, he never saw his father again... he was kept with Fenrir. It was his first time as a werewolf that night, and as it turned out, also his last." She didn't notice the tears streaming down her face. "He was killed for being weak, for being a follower of the wrong people. He shouldn't have been there; and, if he hadn't, I wouldn't have this _disease_. In case I didn't know already, I realised that life isn't fair. We just have to do what we can with what we've got."

Ginny had come over and hugged her tightly as her grief threatened to overflow, and Hermione clutched onto her and sobbed, finally letting out what she had needed to hear...

_I hadn't asked for this..._

**

**

Monday December 11th (full moon)

Hermione was surprised to see an owl approach her at breakfast, not having received anything in the morning mail for quite some time.

To her astonishment, it was from Fred Weasley;

_To Hermione,_

_We hope you're not being too harsh as Head Girl on all the young freedom fighters of Hogwarts._

_If you would allow me to show my typical Weasley breeding and be quite blunt with the next point, it would make it a lot easier to say. If you won't let me, tough. It's written. Imagine, for a moment, my utter shock upon seeing you with Snape in Diagon Alley yesterday! I didn't even know he could come out in daylight. Not to be prying, but what possible reason is there for a lunch outing with the Bat of the Dungeons? Unless it's some new and devious torture device?_

_Remind Ron that his order of... completely non-contraband products... will be in shortly._

_We await your reply with bated breath,_

_Fred Weasley_

"Oh, for Heaven's sake." Hermione huffed. She had found that she was not above Muggle expletives, or as the case may be blasphemes. She turned on Ron. "You Weasleys have the _worst_ case of curiosity and nosiness that I have _ever_ seen."

"What have I done now?" He even managed to seem offended.

Hermione thought about it before mumbling, "Nothing." She could guess what his reaction would be if he knew about her 'little outing'.

"Come on, Hermione; at least give me a chance to defend myself!"

"It wasn't _you_, Ron! Honestly..."

"Was it Ginny then? Cause it-"

"Drop it, Ron." Harry butted in unexpectedly. "I have no idea what this is about, but I'm sure you don't want to do it in the Great Hall."

It was true that several people were waiting expectantly for the fight to escalate, listening while trying to look intent on their breakfast. These people now looked distinctly uncomfortable and hurriedly returned to their conversations.

Hermione sent a grateful glance at Harry before quickly finishing her breakfast.

She felt distinctly ill throughout the day, struggling to get through her normal classes without betraying the pain. Her shoulder was burning, she had a splitting headache and her gut was clenched painfully.

It was with some relief that she escaped Ancient Runes at the end of the day, rushing to her room to lay still and breathe. She wasn't allowed to take pain potions for fear of reaction against the Wolfsbane, and that was a risk she would never take. She still recalled the feeling of suppressing the werewolf instincts during her confinement- barely below the surface, ready to spring out.

She heard a faint knock on the door. Sitting up, she said, "Come in."

Expecting Ginny, she was surprised to see Dumbledore step inside with a faint smile on his face. "Headmaster!"

"Don't get up, dear girl." He said. "I've come to hear your decision about tonight."

"Oh... I've decided that- if it's okay with you- I could remain in my room for the duration."

"That is fine, Hermione. We expect no difficulties on that score, with Remus doing the same for many moons. However, I have one stipulation..." He rummaged around in one pocket of his shockingly yellow robe, retrieving a small box. He opened it to reveal a strange cylindrical object.

"This is a panic button, Hermione. Adapted from the Muggle concept, I believe. If at any time you desire assistance, only push the red side to activate it. This can be achieved with either hand or paw."

"Thankyou, Headmaster. That's a great idea, and a comfort." She took the object, its weight feeling solid in her hand.

"Good luck, Miss Granger... and don't forget the last potion."

**

**

Hermione had reminded Ginny to watch the calendar at lunch that day; by the way that the girl went pale, Hermione assumed that the message had got across. She had wordlessly and subtly grasped Hermione's hand later, a gesture that reminded Hermione that she was not alone.

If only she didn't _feel _so alone.

She had given her excuse for missing the upcoming dinner, taken the last instalment of the potion, place the panic button in easy reach, and now all she had to do was wait.

She didn't have to wait very long.

The first indication was the eyes. She could feel them getting bigger, and the world seemed to become distorted before reforming in strange colours, or lack thereof.

Then she felt a prickle on her skin which hailed the beginning of fur. This discomfort was quickly forgotten, however, when her bones started rearranging.

That went way, _way _past 'discomfort'. The pain was excruciating, but she managed to stay in relatively the same cleared space on the floor. The _Muffliato_ Charm on the door, as well as an Evasion Charm, should keep away any curious folk- her screaming otherwise would have been enough to send the whole castle running.

And then, it was over. The pain vanished like it had never been, and Hermione was left with a sense of unreality. _The room looks different from down here..._

She shuddered as her roaming discovered what was _really_ under her bed.

With an agile leap (a phrase that Hermione had never expected to relate to herself) she settled herself on the bed, deciding that she could really cope with this.

Just as she thought that, she felt a niggling in her mind. It felt like when she was being attacked via Legilimency, so she automatically put up her defences.

It kept going...

The wolf.

Ah. Now she remembered. That was what it felt like, to be attacked by what was almost a suppressed alter ego. Jekyll and Hyde stuff, really.

She didn't get any sleep, and as the sun came up, she felt an acute sense of relief.

She _would_ get used to this. She would not let it get to her, even if others loathed it.

**

**

Tuesday December 12th

Hermione was relieved that she was able to appear at breakfast; too many missed meals, and people would inevitably come up with the wrong idea.

Three teachers watched her from the staff table, all feeling amounts of concern, affection and guilt.

**

**

Wednesday December 13th

Another day, another set of classes, another load of work. This was how Hermione's life went, but it was not how she would like it to stay. They were set to have Career talks with McGonagall on Thursday, something that Hermione had thought of in advance with several questions to ask their wise head of house.

It was obvious that not everyone was prepared, from what Hermione heard at the lunch table.

"I have no idea, mate! I think I like Transfiguration better... what could I do with that?"

"Seamus, you _can't_ be a curse breaker, they need at least an E in Charms..."

"Do you reckon the Cannons need a new Beater?"

She merely rolled her eyes and returned to her lunch. She was ravenous- and craving meat, not that she was going to stuff herself with it.

Dumbledore then announced that there would be a special banquet and Ball that night, with a double celebration- the Birthday of Merlin, and the Two month anniversary of the Defeat of Voldemort.

The boys' eyes lit up at the prospect of _more_ food. Hermione didn't bother to contradict them; in fact, she was rather looking forward to the feast herself...

They were invited to dress up for the occasion; many girls bemoaned the short notice, but Hermione didn't mind. She had just the thing.

It was a few minutes before the feast was due to start that Hermione declared herself 'ready'. Ginny was already waiting impatiently, obviously rearing to get to Harry and dazzle him out of his wits.

"Let's go," Hermione agreed finally. She patted down her burgundy silk dress one more time, ensuring that the wrap was secure around her shoulder, and checked her coiled hair. She had picked the outfit up in Diagon Alley in the holidays for this very reason; unexpected party occasions.

Hogwarts was positively glittering, the Hall decorated for the night of festivities. The tables were set up in groups of ten around the Hall, and the Gryffindor seventh years quickly attempted to claim one further away from the staff table and the Slytherin area.

Unfortunately, the other Houses seemed to have the same idea; Ravenclaw had long bemoaned their table's proximity to the Slytherins, and decided to take action. They had claimed many of the furthest tables earlier, and so it was the case that a mixture of Hufflepuff and the occasional Gryffindor table was nearest to the Slytherin block.

Hermione carefully ignored them as she was seated in a velvet covered antique chair with Ron on one side and Ginny on the other, reasoning that this turn of events could not ruin her evening.

A quick nonsensical speech from Dumbledore, an introduction of the new Divination teacher, Professor Ludwig, and the feast began.

Several platters appeared in front of each group, magically refreshing themselves when stocks ran low- which was often. Hermione noted that even the girls supposedly watching their weight had tucked in with enthusiasm.

She held her folk negligently in her hand, noting abstractly that it was a different dinner set. The other was definitely gold, while this one was a different metal; it was still a muted gold in colour but it was definitely some kind of mixture...

"Try some Yorkshire, Hermione, it's to _die_ for!" Ron thrust the dish into her face, and she obediently retrieved a slice.

What was she just thinking about?

A sharp pain in her hands, on the palms, was a reminder.

She dropped the knife and fork with a clatter, quickly dropping her hand below the table. Tears came to her eyes, but she quickly suppressed them. _They can't know..._

"Anything wrong, Hermione? Don't like the pie?" Ron said in concern. She managed a faint smile.

"I'm fine, Ron. Just kicked my toe." Thinking quickly, Hermione Transfigured the napkin on her lap into a pair of long and elegant gloves. They didn't quite match her outfit, but nobody would notice for the rest of the meal; then she could escape.

She placed her hands on the tabletop again, picked up her utensils, and kept eating. Each motion was agony as her gloves rubbed the burn, but she was not deterred. If anyone noticed her discomfort, they might have taken it as a dislike for the evening. She was, after all, a bookworm.

Finally, the dessert course vanished from their plates. Hermione couldn't even recall what she had eaten, or what had been said. Her whole hand was throbbing now.

"Do you want to go and freshen up now, Hermione?" Ginny enquired.

"Already? You haven't even done anything!" Harry said incredulously.

Ginny merely laughed and linked her arm in Hermione's. "You have a lot to learn."

"I was just saying... what is there to freshen up? You both look _perfect_." Harry amended with a nervous smile.

"That's more like it, but we're going anyway." Ginny sniffed, and they left the Hall quickly. Four pairs of eyes watched them leave.

As soon as they reached the corridor, Ginny stopped. "Are you okay?"

"We need to go to the Infirmary." Hermione whispered. "The cutlery had silver in it...."

"Hence the gloves?" Ginny was quick, Hermione gave her that. "Come on, I can drop you there."

"And where do you think _you_ are going, Miss Granger? Miss Weasley?" A dark voice joined them, the tone laced with venom. _Snape._

"Sir..." Hermione began, but he waved her explanation away. "Miss Weasley, please return to the Ball. Miss Granger, you should _not_ visit Madame Pomfrey."

"But I..." Ginny started bravely, but Hermione nudged her. "Go."

She left reluctantly, and Hermione realised why he had intervened.

"I thought she knew." She admitted.

"That would have been an extremely damaging situation, Miss Granger. Madame Pomfrey is professionally obligated to have records of every single visit into her Infirmary. You would have informed the Authorities, who would have..."

"Okay, sir, I get it." Hermione said bitterly.

"This is no place for an argument." He said suddenly. "Follow me."

Hermione did so, trying to ignore the pain in her hand, and wondering if he actually knew the reason for her attempted trip to the Infirmary.

They trod the familiar path to his office and their research space, Hermione feeling out of place in the scholarly clutter in her dressy attire.

"Let's see it." He said softly, almost resigned... with some concern?

She carefully pulled off her gloves, hissing under her breath as the material caught and resisted. She winced at the sight; one of them was only crimson and sightly swollen across the palm and a few fingers, but the other was worse; it had gone to the second degree, revealing angry red welts which were, in some cases, openly weeping. She gritted her teeth as he took them and examined them with a quick eye.

"Gryffindor bravery." He snapped. "It's going to take a lot more work to heal, now that you've waited this long and aggravated the wounds."

"Do you think that was my idea? I couldn't just rush out of the Hall! I had to cover them, and I had to eat to avoid suspicion. What was silver cutlery doing there anyway?" She defended herself hotly.

Snape did turn away at that. "Apparently the House Elves were instructed against _silver_ cutlery, not _cutlery that contains silver_. They wouldn't know the difference anyway..."

"Don't blame it on the House elves." Hermione said automatically, prompting another burst of anger from the man.

"Once again, your misplaced sense of social justice has gotten in the way of your judgement! This could have revealed _everything_- have you not realised how grave this is?"

"I have _every _conceivable knowledge of how grave this is! This is my _life_ on the line, Professor! This has been hard for me, but I know just how much harder it would be if I was discovered."

"_Hard_? You could be expelled, Granger." He said bluntly. "It's illegal to conceal your condition from the Ministry; if the Board of Governors saw fit, they would have you out in an instant. It might well involve a stint in _Azkaban_!"

"Once again, stop patronising me, sir. I am well aware of that outcome." She was no longer yelling, but her voice was threatening. "But if you think I am going to allow this to cast a cloud over my existence, think again. Wasn't it _you_ who told me about admirable werewolves: 'the thing that stood them apart was how they did not let their condition rule their lives.'"

"Do not quote me, Miss Granger, as flattering as most would think it is. Yes, they didn't let it rule their lives, but neither did they ever lose sight of it. A seasoned werewolf would have tested the cutlery for the occasion, Transfigured them into acceptable instruments, and moved on. Lupin himself has a set on his person at all times. You need to be _prepared_, Miss Granger, for the worst."

_Constant vigilance!_ Came to her mind unbidden. Swallowing her arguments, she merely said, "I'll remember that next time, Professor. Now, if you _don't_ mind, my hands require medical attention."

Hermione didn't recognise many of the spells he cast, some in different languages; but eventually the pain ebbed away, and she flexed her fingers experimentally. There was still some colour to them, but a burn salve would keep that down over the next few days. He handed her a jar of the paste.

"Thankyou." She said quietly, uncertain of his reception. "For helping me through all of this."

"Someone has to, and as cloyingly nice the Headmaster can be, his head is often in the world of ideas and not practicalities."

She chuckled, not feeling up to laughing. "I suppose that's an accurate observation."

"You have no idea." His surprisingly playful answer came. "Now, are you going to the Ball or not?"

"I think I can stand to make an appearance." Hermione said.

"Let's go then."

**

**

Hermione twirled in the arms of Neville, chatting amiably to him, his boyish face visibly nervous. She decided that she didn't want to encourage what she had already expected as feeling for her, so she raved on about how overrated and unfulfilling relationships were. When the song was over, she was relieved to return to the padded benches sitting near the walls.

Ginny gave her an inquiring look, and Hermione returned a half smile. She took that as a good sign before turning back to Harry, who had reluctantly agreed to the next dance.

She was eventually alone, not that she minded; she was content to sit in the warm glow of candlelight, blissful amongst a life filled with complications.

She was about to encounter another one.

She heard a rustling, then a sound that sent a shiver up her spine. "_Ow-ow-howww_..." Someone impersonating the howl of a werewolf.

"I know you can hear me, Granger..." a voice whispered from the shadows. She immediately identified it as Draco Malfoy, a boy that hadn't annoyed her in a very long time- now that his family name was dirt, his confidence had dropped past subzero.

She turned around slowly, and seeing that no one appeared to be there, cast a detection charm. No people; only a floating spell, that she quickly identified as _Serudo_-it allowed your voice to be carried across the room to be heard by one other person (popular with secret lovers).

"Looking a bit pale... the moon got you down?" The disembodied voice went on. "I know your secret, filth! Mudblood, werewolf, lowest life form on earth..."

She abruptly stood, but the voice followed her as she desperately looked around for both Malfoy and Snape.

"Where are you going, filth? To see Lupin, your lover beast?"

"Shut up, ferret boy." She muttered under her breath, knowing that he wouldn't hear her. She saw the Potions Master where she had expected, hovering near the exit with Hooch and looking murderous. She quickly weaved her way towards him.

"No you don't." Draco said, this time from his real voice; he blocked her way with a deft movement, leaning casually on the massive statue of Merlin erected in the hall for the celebrations. From that angle, they were hidden from a majority of the Hall behind one bronze leg of the statue.

"Well well, Granger. What are you going to do now? Too bad the Ministry wouldn't hesitate in locking you up; it seems that all your supposed intelligence has come to-"

Hermione took the opportunity of his monologue to retrieve her wand and mutter a quick _Petrificus Totalis_, relishing the look of dawning surprise on Malfoy's face. She leaned him up against the statue in what she hoped looked like a natural pose, ignoring his eyes which were shooting venom at her, and walked in a rushed but stately matter the rest of the way to Snape, heart thudding.

He saw her coming, but hardly acknowledged her presence. "This had better be good, Miss Granger." He growled.

"I'd _hate _to ruin your fun-filled evening, but Malfoy knows, Professor. He told me with Serudo, and now he's Petrified behind the hideous statue of Merlin."

"I've got it." He said immediately. "Go back to your dancing, or whatever." He strode away towards where she had indicated.

Hermione lost sight of him in the crowd, but was soon rewarded with the sight of Snape exiting through the staff entrance- with a load under his arm which looked suspiciously human-shaped.

**

**

Snape grunted under the weight of Draco, throwing him into the nearest room. He quickly muttered the counter-curse, ignoring the indignant protests from the dishevelled boy. When it seemed he had run out of accusations, Snape cut in.

"As much as I agree with your sentiment that Granger should not be at this school, it is not my decision. It is not the student's decision. It rests with Dumbledore and Miss Granger alone, and I will _not_ allow the Headmaster's wishes to be ignored."

"But Prof-"

"Draco!" He barked. "Do _not_ contradict me."

Draco sulked for a moment before resuming his verbal attack. "As if Lupin wasn't enough..."

"Tell me about it." Snape sighed, playing up the widely held prejudice for all it was worth. "It I wasn't bound to silence this time around, you would be hearing vehement objections from myself." He Conjured a goblet of pumpkin juice and handed it to Draco negligently. The boy didn't even hesitate in drinking what was offered to him. _Idiot. I don't know how he survived the war._

"So, Draco... did you tell anyone else of your suspicions?" Snape asked after the Veritserum had taken effect.

"No. I wanted confirmation from the Mudblood first; it's a pretty big claim to make, after all." Draco frowned.

"Smart decision, Draco. What are you going to do with the information now?"

"Well, I'll tell the Governors. The Ministry, if they don't already know. But it would be public by now if they did, so I'd go straight to Minster Dawlish. Family friend and all that." It dawned on him. "Did... did you put Truth Serum in my drink?!"

"Shame, Draco. You should have known immediately, if you were on your guard. Obviously you have grown complacent to forget all that your father taught you. _Don't trust anyone._" Snape's eyes were glittering now, in menace and suppressed rage.

"But why, Severus?" Draco slipped into informal address. "Don't you want the Mudblood denounced?"

"Don't call her that." Snape snapped. He advanced on Draco, magically binding him with ropes and recasting a Muffliato on the room.

"Did your father ever tell you, Draco? I'm no more of a Pureblood than Miss Granger." The disgust and fear that crossed Draco's face was delicious to Snape. "Does that make me filth? In your eyes, I am presuming 'yes'."

"Nevertheless, she's a monster!" Draco hissed. "You won't get away with this."

"I thought the cliques were restricted to Gryfindor vocabulary, but I am obviously mistaken. Say your last goodbye to the memories of tonight, Mr. Malfoy; I think inebriation should be the correct excuse for your absence."

"No! Wait, Severus, please..." His cries sank into silence as he fell under the Obliviate, then into unconsciousness.

Snape placed a near empty bottle of Firewhiskey beside him and poured a little into his mouth. The evidence thus planted, he left the room.

**

**

Hermione was in low spirits for the rest of the night; what was happening to Malfoy? Had he already revealed her secret to his friends? She couldn't concentrate on the revelry around her, and only the cold night air managed to bring her back to reality. The Gryffindors had moved the party outside into one of the many Courtyards of the castle, and Hermione found herself seated next to Harry while Ginny went to get some drinks.

"Hermione... I have something to ask you, and I want you to be honest with me." He said unexpectedly.

"Sure, Harry. You know that I'll tell the truth."

"Why did you _really_ leave during dinner?"

_Ouch._ He was sly, she would give him that. "Do I really have to?" She said weakly.

"Let me make it easier for you. Did you, or did you not, burn yourself at dinner? You can just nod or shake your head if it's easier."

She swallowed thickly, and then nodded.

"Was it on the cutlery?"

"You sound like a lawyer." She teased before nodding again.

"Okay. I think I get it now." Harry said, his eyes distant. Hermione saw a steely determination in the set of his face. "I'm okay with it, really."

"Harry..." Hermione began, but Ginny had returned with the drinks and some gossip about Justin Finch-Fletchery. They didn't get a chance to talk again the rest of the evening, but they both felt that they didn't really need to. It was understood.

**

**

Hermione reached her rooms around two in the morning, gratefully letting her pinned hair down and massaging her sore scalp. She had only been there for a few moments when she heard a knock at the door.

She opened it to the dark and imposing figure of Snape.

"Professor." She breathed. Realising how inappropriate it would look, she continued, "Come in, I guess."

He did so, a flicker of his eyes around the room drinking in his surroundings before he looked back at Hermione. "Malfoy has been... contained."

"Obliviate?" Hermione guessed. A curt nod was her reply. "Did he tell anyone?"

"Apparently not; he wanted to keep the information to himself until he could go to the Governors or the Minister."

"Selfish, in a way." Hermione said with a wince. It seemed that the late night had affected her 'filter'.

"It was always the way of Malfoy Senior to retain important information until it was useful to him; in terms of blackmail, usually."

Hermione was surprised that he was both being civil and talking openly about his experiences as a Death Eater. "I should probably tell you... Harry figured it out."

He raised an eyebrow, and a strange shiver went up Hermione's arms. "Indeed? It seems that Mr. Potter is more perceptive than I believed. The only problem now is keeping him quiet."

"No problem, Professor. He's discreet."

Snape snorted in obvious disbelief. "It's your future."

Hermione noticed for the first time just how _tall_ he was. He was always impressive, but that was more in his presence than in his stature. "I trust him." She quickly changed the subject. "Are we brewing tomorrow?"

"Yes." He seemed equally relieved for the change of topic. "You have your career talk in the morning, but your afternoon free should be sufficient."

"Yes, sir." For some reason it didn't surprise her that he had memorised her timetable. It seemed a very Snape-like thing to do. "I'll see you then."

"I've invited Remus along this time." He said suddenly, looking sour. "He knows more werewolves than you do, some inside information may be useful."

"That was a good idea." She agreed, secretly praising how he transcended his aversion to Remus to help their project.

"You handled today rather well, Miss Granger. I must admit that you have adapted rather well to the life of secrecy and danger."

_Like the spy life._ "Thanks, Professor... that means a lot to me."

He shifted, and Hermione thought that it must he uncomfortable for him to hand out praise. "I'll see you tomorrow."

**

**

Snape stood in the corridor outside, his tired mind resting for longer than was appropriate on the sight of her tumbledown hair and small, bare feet. He shook himself and stalked to the dungeons for a few hours of rest.


	4. Careful Concealment

**

**  
"So, Hermione, what would you like as a career?"

She thought about it. She reflected on her notes, the one with all the options, their pro's and con's, their ratings out of ten. And she still couldn't decide. She knew why; she didn't see herself with a future. With a steady career. With all she wanted in life.

"I'm at a loss, Professor McGongall."

The woman nearly dropped her teacup. "I see." She said slowly. "I thought you would have planned it out by now?"

"You have no idea how much I've worked on it, Professor... but no matter what I do, I can't settle on the one profession."

"I have to admit, Miss Granger, I thought you would be the only Gryffindor to have an actual goal in mind."

"I guess I can't think past the academic circles, Professor. I'm still too much of a student."

"I disagree, Hermione. You have a very mature view of the world, and I know you; it's not all about grades and homework for you. That's just a reflex action."

"Well put." Hermione admitted with a small smile. "Very well, if you want the truth... I have no idea what my future will look like."

The woman sat up, suddenly alert. "If this has anything to do with your... _heritage_, Miss Granger, I wish to inform you that it's not as bleak as many imagine, especially for a student like you. _Don't _let them get you down."

Hermione smiled, tears threatening to come to her eyes. Although McGonagall had come to a different conclusion, it still hit close to the mark. "Thankyou. I'll keep trying."

**

**

Snape didn't look up as Hermione entered their laboratory. To a mutual agreement, they both got to work. The only talk was potion related, and he could see her relax into the procedure. He remembered how he used the art of potion making to shed the troubles of the day, and lose himself in the magic...

Their tranquillity was ruined by a tentative knock on the door. Snape threw it open, knowing that Lupin was behind it. "Come in, I suppose." He snapped, resuming his seat in bad humour.

"Hello, Hermione. Are you doing okay?" Snape winced at the ham handed attempt at concern, stirring his potion with a little more vigour than required.

"I'm fine, thanks." Snape thought he could hear a note of frustration in her otherwise smooth tone. They talked details of the potion they were attempting, now still at the stage of mixing different elements and seeing the reaction they were likely to make. Snape glanced up once to see that the werewolves were sitting close to each other of the bench as Hermione showed him the formula so far, Remus' ragged hair touching the flyaway wisps of the girl's. He gritted his teeth.

"...and then, once we balance the liver and Gillyweed, it should work to suppress the wolf consciousness. Not completely erased, just beyond control."

"Brilliant!" Remus said enthusiastically. "How much of it is based on Wolfsbane? I mean, if you went from scratch, it would take decades. Lord Derillion himself took twenty years to develop Wolfsbane."

Snape snorted in spite of himself. His head shot up when he felt their inquiring eyes on him. "Was there something?" he sneered.

"Did you want to add something to the conversation?" The girl said sweetly.

"Of course. Only that Derillion was a darned fool who had three of his apprentices killed, many more injured, and the rest of them Oblivitated beyond recognition to protect his secrets. Not only that, but he didn't actually brew it."

"Really?" Her academic curiosity got the better of her. "Who did, then?"

He replied after a moments thought, "One of his apprentices."

"And then he took the credit." Remus concluded. "If that's true, it's no use going to him for help."

"Why do you think were doing this in secrecy? It's not only the social outcry that would result, it's the inevitable attack from Derillion that we would be worrying about." Snape explained impatiently. Couldn't they just drop it?

"Can't we find the apprentice? Restore his memories, if he's not dead?" Hermione persisted.

"An apt suggestion, Miss Granger, but that is quite unnecessary. Please drop the subject."

He watched in dejection as her face lit up, then went still. "What did you do after you left school, Professor Snape?"

"I don't see why this is..."

"Merely that we were choosing career paths earlier this morning, and yours is of great interest to me."

"You mean besides joining the Death Eaters, Miss Granger?" He said, trying to scare her off.

"Seriously, Professor. Did you take an apprenticeship, perhaps?"

"Alright, you've got me, Miss Granger." He acquiesced in disgust. "Do you want a confession now? 'I, Severus Snape, invented Wolfsbane'. Happy now, you insufferable busybody?"

Remus jumped in, a grin of delight in his face. "But that's excellent, Severus! Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Because I don't want your praise, and I certainly don't want your misplaced sympathy to fall on me." He abandoned any pretence of working.

"It's your choice to miss your chance for worldwide success." Hermione said with a twist of sarcasm. "Although we certainly won't stand in your way if you decide to take your rightful credit one day."

"That's all I ask." He snapped. The rest of the afternoon passed in tense moments, even after Lupin left. One such was broken with the arrival of a school owl, stopping at the edge of the room as it had been told to.

Snape retrieved the scroll and read it, his hands clenching as he realised what it meant.

_To the Staff of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,_

_We send our cordial greetings from the Ministry of Magic. As some of you may already be aware, we are conducting research on the impact of the War on our society as a whole. As many of the events involved, including the Final Battle, were conducted in conjunction with your students, we wish to compile a profile of their psychological state of mind._

_To this end, we have attained full approval from the Minister to interview your students. Parents have been notified that these compulsory interviews are likely to contain both the use of Boggarts and Muggle methods of emotional measurements._

_Initial tests are to begin Friday the 15__th__, beginning with the Seventh Year students. For a full timetable, please refer to the Headmaster's upcoming schedule._

_We anticipate your full cooperation in this matter of vital importance to the future of our children, and the future of our world._

_All possible respect, the Ministry of Magic, Statistical Division, Mr. Argyle Buckley._

"They... how could... it..." He struggled to get the words out. "Preposterous!" He spat finally. Conscious of Hermione's hovering presence, he thrust the parchment in her general direction. He heard her sit down heavily after reading.

"They can't be serious." Hermione whispered.

"That is also my wish, Miss Granger, but we both know it to be true. The only question is... what do you see when presented with a Boggart, will it affect your cover, and is there any possible method to change it?"

"I haven't encountered a Boggart since my third year." Hermione scoffed. "I'm sure I've changed since then."

"You have." He said absently, still deep in thought. "It is my belief that the last Boggart was exterminated from the castle late last year, so there is no way of determining your fear."

"Not by any degree of absolute certainty, but I can hazard a guess." Hermione said bitterly. "If I'm right, I'm definitely in trouble."

'I'll see what I can do. Pack up the lab." He swept out of the room, intent on finding Dumbledore. When he reached his office, and then the man himself, he was stopped by a gentle hand in the air in front of him.

"I know, Severus. This is bad... the students will be told at dinner, and I fully expect uproar. But our greatest issue should be Hermione."

"Do you have any Boggarts around that I don't know about, Albus?" Severus said.

"I'm sorry, but that cannot be done in time. We will have to send her in regardless; I assume you understand what the undercurrent of the message was?"

"They want to get to Potter and his friends; see if they can turn them to the Ministry's advantage, after their disastrous relationship in the past. More importantly, they want to see if any future Death Eaters or dissidents lie in our ranks."

"Precisely, my boy. Hermione will not be excused in any case; she must face them, and there is no way to cheat a Boggart. Believe me, I have tried."

"So we just leave it in the hands of fate?" Snape said incredulously.

"That's all we can do. For now."

**

**

As the Headmaster had predicted, the Great Hall rang loudly with shouts from outraged students after his announcement. Those who understood the subtext and who were possible targets were the worst; Potter and his band had to be placated later by Dumbledore in private. Snape gave his own Slytherins a second lecture in the relative safety of their Common Room, and a warning that any refusals would be met with harsh penalties from the school and the Ministry. He also added that it was lucky indeed that Veritserum was restricted in its use, or they would have also been subjected to the Potion.

**

**

Friday December 15th

Friday arrived, as it is want to do; all the Seventh years were to continue their normal classes until they were called up. Those who had already been seen didn't return to the student body, prompting many hysterical rumours about brainwashing and imprisonment.

Snape was on supervision duty for that entire day, watching as each student appeared before a panel of three people; two Ministry officials and one Mediwizard who was meant to be a pioneer in the field of behavioural Healing. Snape knew for a fact that he was considered a crackpot by anyone who had read his theories, and Snape held him in contempt for his wanton use of irreversible magic on his patients- often with adverse effects.

Snape saw that about seven out of ten children had their specific Boggarts manifestation as a direct result of the war. An unsurprising number, since fear of spiders or banshees were easily defeated once you saw a Killing Curse or a Death Eaters mask. Snape had no illusions, and those of these students had been smashed long ago. To add insult to injury, the students had to describe _why_ they feared that particular event. You can't explain fear! You can't explain Voldemort!

The first student of extreme interest to Snape was Potter, called in early on the seemingly random list. _If anyone complains, they'll be too late to stop this examination._

He was defiant and blunt to the last; similarly to the questions, which were transparent in their direction. And fool would know what to say and get a perfect score of sanity.

The questioning started with simple questions; name, age, parents, siblings. Then they went onto hobbies, favourite things, and other superficial likes or dislikes. Then it went deeper; how would you react if... what are your thoughts on... how do you feel when... what best represents...

Potter spoke mechanically, giving what seemed to be honest answers with an expressionless face. It seemed as though his thoughts were elsewhere, and this was merely an annoying distraction.

Then something happened that almost made Snape break his promise not to interfere.

Potter flinched after a particularly profound question on morality, blinking in sudden surprise. The old and feeble note taking wizard scribbled furiously at what was, after all, the only sign of feeling he had displayed the entire time. Snape noticed that the other younger Ministry wizard staring at Potter, unblinking...

Legilimency. The nerve!...

"Were you going to ask another question, Mr. Sydenham? Or were you going to have a staring contest?" Harry said before Snape could interrupt.

Mr. Sydenham sat back with a frown between his brows before shuffling his papers. "That was the last one, Mr. Potter. Now we examine your reaction to fear by the way of a Boggart."

"By all means." Potter said pleasantly, standing at attention at the cupboard in the corner of the room. "Bring it on."

Snape unsuccessfully hid a snort of amusement.

The door creaked open (why couldn't they find one with oiled hinges, one had to ask) to reveal...

Snape shuddered in the presence of one he had never thought to see again. Unbidden, the words came to his mind... _My Lord._ The apparition's thin, pale skin and red eyes, glowing like embers in his unnatural face, thankfully turned towards Potter.

"You can't escape, Harry... I will always hunt you, Harry..." It began to whisper. The room's lamps flickered, and the Ministry officials cowered.

"_Riddikulus!_" Potter shouted, and then...

Nothing.

After all, how could he make Lord Voldemort _amusing_? It merely retreated reluctantly into its cupboard.

"Th-thank you, Mr. P-Potter." One of them whispered, sounding a lot like Professor Quirrel. "You may join your classmates in the classroom next door. Do not leave until dinnertime."

"Really? I can go? Jolly good!" Potter snapped sarcastically, the last defences failing as he tried to control his fury. He didn't quite slam the door on his way out, but it was a near thing.

"Let's take a break." One of them said weakly. "Reconvene in ten minutes."

Snape swept out, managing to catch Potter before he reached the classroom full of previous students. "Potter. A word."

"Yes, Professor Snape?" His words were civil, but he could see the hatred burning beneath; his tone was insolent at the least and malicious at the most.

"I noticed that you had learnt to control your emotions, Potter. You held up well, considering."

"Was... was that a _compliment_, Professor?" He seemed aghast. Snape decided to rub it in.

"Don't let it go to your head, Potter. Now, about Miss Granger..."

"Don't worry, sir. I've got my eye on her." He seemed puzzled, most likely that he would actually care about a student.

"See that you do. Dumbledore wished to see you after dinner. Good day." He stalked off before Potter could recover, suddenly realising how soft he had gone after the downfall of the Dark Lord. He hadn't even found an excuse to take House Points off Potter.

**

**

Snape had to concede, that after almost a full day of questioning and profiling, the Gryffindor mob knew what was going on. The only time they lost their cool was, inevitably, when the time came for the Boggart. The examiners were also coming to dread it and the nightmarish creatures it would bring.

Neville Longbottom had matured, it seemed; he was no longer utterly afraid of his Potions Master. Instead, he had a fear grounded in reality; Bellatrix Lestrange, coming back from obscurity to finish off his parents, and not being able to stop it. His voice trembled as he explained that fear, but he never shed a tear.

Ron Weasley was changed as well, his Boggart showing a Death Eater casting the Cruciatus on him. Now _that_ was something the psychologists could sink their teeth into; having been subject to a bout of Crucio from the Dark Lord himself, Ron had never fully recovered from it. But having it from a Death Eater? It meant that Ron truly believed that Voldemort was dead, and only one of his followers left on the run could hurt him. Snape silently approved of that logic- if fear could be considered logical.

The last student of the day was Granger.

She answered the questions as well as any other candidate had; more succinct if anything, more sure of her answers. Snape was on tenterhooks the whole time, not that he looked it; he showed the same contemptuous boredom as he had all day.

As they all rose, he thought idly, _Boggart time._ Now they would wait and see, perhaps employ some damage control. He would wait.

The door opened, but nothing appeared for a moment. Suddenly, there were several forms in front of them; two humans in black robes with hoods slumped on the ground, blood covering their arms and torsos. Snape could see clear and distinct bite marks on the shoulders of one, and knew that the Ministry wizards would as well.

From his angle, he could also see underneath one robe where it had been ripped from the neck. A distinct collar, black waistcoat...

Behind the bodies, there was a wolf- a werewolf. Its silver muzzle was stained red with blood, and it gave a bloodthirsty howl.

"_Riddikulus!_" Hermione hissed, and the werewolf had a muzzle, collar and leash, complete with the tag _Fido_. It looked rather sorry for itself as it slunk back into the cupboard and the bodies vanished.

"So, Miss Granger... why is this scene your greatest fear?" Mr. Sydenham said faintly.

Hermione turned, stared, blinked once.

"I guess I just don't like werewolves."

**

**

"Well done, Miss Granger." Snape congratulated her as she walked into the dungeon for their experiment that night. "I'm assuming you debriefed the Gryffindors on Freud and the like beforehand."

"Only a little." She admitted, sitting heavily beside her cauldron. "I've been given permission by Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff Prefects to give them the lecture as well." She caught herself, remembering who she was talking to. "Not that we would taint an important Ministry test, Professor! Honesty is paramount!"

He snorted. "Spare me, Miss Granger. I'm glad you're taking an interest in the other Houses, however. Slytherin would benefit from your tuition in this matter."

The look of horror on her face was priceless; he let her stew before continuing. "Don't worry, I wouldn't do that... they wouldn't accept it coming from you, anyway."

"I suppose that's true." She said, relief palpable. She quickly turned her comments to their work, and they spent the remainder of the night in amiable chatter.

**

**

_Fool._ He thought bitterly. _Why are you doing this?_

He was standing outside the Boggart cabinet in the moonlight, having easily negated the Ministry locks and Charms. He hadn't seen a Boggart in a long, long time... he was a changed man.

What would he see? Hogwarts in ruins, as before- the Dark Lord, standing in triumph on the battlements...

_Ridiculous._ He couldn't help thinking. Taking a deep breath, he whispered, "_Alohomora._"

The door opened once more, and he felt a stab of apprehension- he would _not_ call it fear.

There was a tangible pause- _had it taken this long for the students?_ When the scene formed, his breath caught.

It was almost exactly the same as Hermione's.

This time, the wolf was in chains- silver chains that bit into the grey fur, made her whimper. The chains were controlled by a Ministry wizard, identified by his crest of arms. Snape himself was lying on the ground before her- dead, judging by the glassy look in his eyes- and covered in blood.

"No..." He croaked. "_Riddikulus!_"

Nothing happened, so he cast it again, this time with concentration; when it was banished, he fought to control himself.

_So... my greatest fear is Hermione killing me- not only for the sake of my own life, but because I don't want to see her life ruined._

He hadn't considered that... he knew that Hermione's fear also involved his death, if he identified the body correctly. That was the strangest part, that she was concerned for him; he hadn't felt that in a long time, especially not from his students. Of course there was the staff, particularly Dumbledore and McGonagall, but this seemed different somehow.

He wandered the castle until the morning light touched the horizon, not closer to any conclusive answers.

**

**

Saturday December 16th

"Hogsmeade!" Ron sighed happily, brightly examining the town before them. "Last visit before the holidays. Was there ever a place I was happier to visit?"

"If only for Zonko's and Honeydukes." Harry snorted. "But yeah, it's great to get out."

Hermione had to agree, trying not to remember the circumstances of her last 'outing', as pleasant as it had turned out to be.

Her first point of call was the bookshop, where she found a new stack of books of intense interest. Unfortunately, she had to cull the growing pile- much to the disappointment of the shop keeper, who could spot a bibliophile from a mile away.

She came across one in particular that made her almost squeal; the latest thesis of Master Nysan! A philosopher that she and Professor Snape had often discussed... hadn't he said he wanted it?

She paused in her examination of the book. Coming to a sudden decision, she bought it and several others.

**

**

Sunday December 17th

Hermione was glad to spend most of the day working on 'Project Wherewolf?' despite the frigid temperature in the dungeons. She had brought the book, its weight almost comforting in her satchel.

To their utter surprise, they had found an improbable combination of Lotus Nectar, Rat Heart and Jade Powder had the desired affect; it was the active ingredient, it would contain the consciousness and act as a barrier against the physical transformation. Hermione could tell that her Professor was overjoyed, but he contained it slightly better.

"This is indeed a great advance!" He enthused. "Only a few minor tweaks, and we may have a possible theory to work on."

"Admit it, Professor, you're over the moon!" Hermione grinned. "Can you really keep it so logical?"

"If you _really_ desire it, run rampant around the dungeon, Miss Granger, just avoid knocking the cauldron."

"I think I can contain myself for the moment, sir." She agreed, but her eyes were twinkling in a way they had not for a long, long time. "But, in honour of the occasion, I have something..." He raised an eyebrow, but she didn't see it as she was bending over her bag. She kept her eyes down still as she handed him a large, heavy object. He examined it with a suspicious curiosity. To his great delight, the author _Master Nysan_ leapt out at him.

"Miss Granger! This is indeed a... thoughtful and rather unexpected gift." He said slowly, his gentlemanly upbringing kicking in.

She shrugged, not replying.

"I very much look forward to discussing his theories when you return. I will keep working on the Potion here over the break." He continued. "Until then, Miss Granger..."

She had stood awkwardly at his dismissal, looking him in the eye in a way that he had missed. There was no fear, no hate... just the gaze of a person who happened to be acquainted with him.

"Until then, Professor." She replied faintly. She looked as if she was going to say something else, but she quickly left, shutting the door behind her.

To Snape, the room suddenly seemed darker.


	5. Conditional Agreements

A/N Thankyou all for your kind reviews! I can't update for a few days, but I hope that this is sufficient in the meantime!

**

**

Hermione winced as another particularly loud Christmas cracker exploded across the table, the Weasley's laughing and enjoying what they found inside; Hermione was now the proud owner of a Krupp figurine (be careful, it stings), a packet of Droobles Blowing Gum and a large, embroidered rug.

As soon as the dinner was over, she found herself masterfully cornered by the Weasley twins, both sporting hideous crowns of silver and ermine.

"Hermione! Just the gal we wanted to see... we were wondering if we could speak to you for a tick."

"Sure." She sighed. "I'm guessing my letter didn't pacify you?"

They exchanged glances. "Not entirely; a special Potions project doesn't exactly cut it."

"Well, it's the truth! Dumbledore saw fit to shove us together for an ingredient hunt for some obscure reason of his own, and follow it up with a request that I assist Professor Snape on his potions. I wasn't exactly begging for the chance."

The twins once again looked at each other in that strange way, and Hermione wondered whether they were telepathic in some way.

"Alright, you're off the hook..."

"...for now."

"Now let's party!"

"Agreed."

**

**

Hermione joined on whole heartedly, dancing with Harry, Mr. Weasley, _all _the Weasley sons, Remus, Kingsley, Remus again... until she was exhausted, so she leaned up against the wall and watched a strange version of Strip the Willow in progress.

"That can only end in broken bones." Remus said dryly from her side, observing the wild dancing.

"Multiple." She said with a laugh.

They talked for a bit longer before Ron broached a topic that should have _never_ been discussed. "Look! The _mistletoe!_"

There was a collective intake of breath, and Hermione watched in horror as the enchanted sprig settled itself quite firmly over herself- and Remus.

Hermione looked up at him, and he went bright red from the attention of the room. He coughed a few times, refusing to look at Hermione.

"Come on Remus, you old sport!" Mrs. Weasley crowed, lapping up the awkward moment and enhancing it tenfold. "Just one!"

"Molly, I..."

"No complaining!" Ginny this time. "Hermione, go for it!"

"You're all drunk!" Hermione protested.

Under pressure from the continued egging from her companions, Hermione turned to Remus, whom she no longer thought of as just a Professor... but she still felt extremely uncomfortable. Leaning in slightly, she could smell his distinctly dusty aroma, like parchment... before telling herself to get it over with, and closing the distance with a chaste kiss on his surprised lips.

The answering whoops inflamed her cheeks, but at least it was over with; the sprig of mistletoe fell from the ceiling and into her outstretched hand. She fingered it absently, turning it over in her hands...

Something clicked. It took all of her self control to stop yelling it out to the entire room- the mistletoe! Their potion!

It would be the final piece.

Meanwhile, the group had packed up and were retiring for a few hours sleep; Ginny led Hermione to her room, but as soon as they were alone, Hermione exclaimed, "I _have_ to get to Hogwarts!"

"Uh... I think Lupin's going there now. What's this all about, Hermione?" Ginny's bewildered face streaked away as Hermione leapt down the stairs with, "I'll explain later!"

Lupin was understandably surprised to see her, but he agreed to escort her to Hogwarts, knowing that the Potion was of the utmost importance.

Hermione walked to the Entrance Hall with the Professor before looking towards the dungeons, but Remus stopper her.

"Uh, Hermione... about what happened with the mistletoe..." He started awkwardly. "Well, I might as well say that it was... nice."

Hermione was abruptly back in reality. _What did he just say??_ "Um... Remus, I'm not really... what I mean is..."

"Hermione, I don't expect anything from you. It's just great to have someone who understands me... Come and get me when you want to go back." He abruptly made his way up the staircase, leaving a very confused Hermione in his wake.

She decided to keep her mind on track, forcing herself to look at the mistletoe in her hand. She ran down to the dungeons, hoping beyond hope that at least something would go well that night.

**

**

Snape was very surprised to hear a tentative knock on his door; only one person would be knocking like that...

"Come in, Miss Granger." He said, trying to act casually. What in the world could she want?

She came in reluctantly, but her eyes were alight with triumph. "Sir, I've found the ingredient that can balance the Bicorn, oak, lizard, and iron."

He merely stared at her. Finding his voice, he said with a dead tone, "_All_ of them?"

She threw it down on the table between them. "Yes, sir. Mistletoe."

His mind instantly whirred over the possibility. "It would raise the acidity, create an antidote to the potentially toxic ingredients present, act as a natural longevity additive, and..." He searched his mind, and came up with the clincher. "Silver would never affect it."

"Exactly, sir! It's similar to how it acts in Felix Feletics, and proposed by Willema when ground into a paste for combating schizophrenia. It's perfect!" Her excitement had brought her closer, so he could see that she was remarkably composed for the girl that had almost invented a cure for lycanthropy.

"The Parchment." He remembered suddenly. He leafed through a stack of parchment for it, holding it up to her. They studied it for a moment.

"Should we add it after the Bicorn? It needs to be close..."

"Stirred twenty times, at least..."

"Safer to stick to 23, the prime number balances nicely..."

"Same temperature..."

They added these details, waiting breathlessly for the enchantment to change it. Slowly, the formula rearranged itself with only one section in red- only _one_ foreseeable problem.

"That was... amazing." Hermione whispered. "It did more than I expected."

"That's impossible. Wolfsbane took me fourteen years! We developed this in a _term_."

"There's the proof, Professor. A few minor tweaks to erase that small problem, and then it's done." Hermione pointed to the section of the parchment that was still pulsing red.

Hermione was suddenly aware of his presence; they were standing very close in order to see their formula, and she hadn't noticed before that he was informally dressed; a grey shirt that billowed as he breathed and black leggings with his standard boots. Somehow, seeing him in this different outfit seemed extremely invasive.

He looked at her as well, a frown appearing as he realised that she was actually there. "How did you get here, Miss Granger? Aren't you meant to be enjoying Christmas?"

"I... the idea just came to me, I couldn't wait." She said uncomfortably.

"'Just came to you', did it? And why would you have some mistletoe on your mind?" He asked dryly. "The joy of a Weasley family Christmas, if I'm not mistaken."

"You assume too much, Professor." She mustered her dignity, his comments coming extremely close to the mark.

"No, Miss Granger... I think I've read you pretty well." He turned away with that cryptic response, placing the Enchanted Parchment on the desk behind him.

She refused to give him any ground. "I don't expect any thanks from you, but a little acknowledgement wouldn't go astray either."

"What makes you think you need bolstering from me?" He said acidly. "Please, if you want a pat on the back and a few words of empty praise, go find Lupin. He'd welcome you with open arms."

She flinched before she could stop the reaction, dreading the look that was in his eyes.

He stood perfectly still for a second before slowly advancing on her, seeming to cut the air with his stride. "You _didn't_."

"I..." Hermione tried. "I... didn't think that he..."

"You _idiot_ girl!" He snapped. "You didn't see that one coming? For a girl of some intelligence, I'm frankly surprised that his affection didn't occur to you."

"He's my _teacher_, Professor Snape, and I don't need a lecture for this! I didn't consider it because-" She stopped suddenly, realising who she was talking to.

"_Because_, Miss Ganger?" He stepped closer. "Were you going to finish?"

"If you finished throwing accusations at me, I wouldn't feel so inclined to yell at you right now."

"If you started yelling at me, I'd..."

"What? Take off House Points? No, you'd tell me to stop acting like a child."

"I was merely warning you of the dangers, you stubborn Gryffindor! And you are_ not_ a child, Miss Granger. I am well aware of that."

"Then stop telling me what to do."

There was dead silence in the dungeon- at least, Hermione thought it was. Then she heard their heartbeats; their quiet breathes; and the shifting of distant feet.

Not too distant...

"There's someone outside." Hermione whispered, not sure why she was being so quiet. Whatever he had expected to come out of her mouth, that obviously wasn't it; he turned to the door, brushing past her as he yanked it open.

Lupin was standing there, curiosity and guilt evident on his face.

"Well well, Lupin. Lurking outside doors, are we?" His voice had returned to the condescending tone that Hermione knew so well; somewhere in their argument he had dropped it.

"I was going to knock, Severus; I never got the opportunity." He protested.

"What do you want? Get it over with."

"I was checking on Hermione, actually. We have to get back soon."

"We were finished anyway, Professor Lupin." Hermione interjected. "I'll just grab my coat." She hurried to the other room, followed by Snape. He stood wordlessly as she retrieved it before saying, "Keep in mind what I said." He then grasped her arm with one of his strong hands before walking to his own chambers, not allowing her to reply.

Bewildered, she allowed Remus to take her back to the Weasleys, crashed into bed, trying to sleep.

Their argument kept circling around in her head, her perfect memory backfiring as she remembered the look on his face. Why had he been so protective? Hermione was certain that it couldn't have been through any overwhelming concern for her; he was merely warning her of Lupin's intentions. _Why are you so hung up about this?_ She thought in frustration, punching her pillow in an uncharacteristic display of anger. Why was she concerned about what he thought of her? And who did _he_ think he was to interfere! _He has been protecting you all along._ She reflected on this; it was entirely true. He had always been outside when she was transforming; he had taken care of Malfoy; he had healed her after the cutlery; he had made her feel a little better about her situation.

_Dumbledore probably just put him up to it._ Come on, the Bat of the Dungeons? The Head of Slytherin? Showing anything but the basic duty towards one of his Gryffindor students...

Yet others had noticed a slight difference in his behaviour. He was a callous and mean as before, certainly, but he no longer went out of his way to punish those who didn't deserve it. He had ignored Harry altogether, a definite improvement to everyone involved. Hermione could only guess at the reason for this; he was no longer living the double life, Death Eater and Order member.

That still didn't explain why he was so overprotective of her...

Her sleep was troubled, dreams filled with shades and shadows.

**

**

Ginny woke her in the morning with barely a touch, insisting on knowing what happened. Hermione explained most of it, but not her argument with Snape, or how he had shown a strange concern for her wellbeing. She didn't quite know _how_ to explain what had taken place yet.

Breakfast was a banquet again, but Hermione couldn't really eat. Everyone was wincing at loud noises from their hangovers, but there was still enough conversation to give Hermione the beginnings of a head ache. She pointedly avoided Lupin's gaze.

Hermione was sitting with her friends in the living room watching Ron and Bill play chess; it was truly a spectacular sight, as Bill was only slightly less proficient than his brother. Hermione suddenly realised that she could hear a conversation going on next door between Mrs. Weasley and Lupin. Dread growing, she listened...

"Don't think I didn't notice you going last night; with Hermione, of all people! Remus, don't tell me..."

"Please, Molly, I have morals! She needed to go to Hogwarts, and that was all."

"Why? It's the holidays! It was Christmas day!"

"Do you think Snape pays heed to celebrations?" Remus snapped in reply, Hermione wincing at the inevitable outburst from the matriarch.

"_Snape?_ What's _he_ got to do with anything?!" Her voice rose, and now others could hear it...

"Look, Molly, just drop it..."

"I don't think so! I need to know for Hermione's sake what in Merlin's name they were doing. I'm finding her _right_ now!"

Hermione leapt up with the goal of encountering Molly in private, but she was too quick. She rounded on Hermione immediately. "You have some explaining to do, young lady!"

"Outside, Mrs. Weasley!" She growled. She walked out rapidly, ignoring the inquiring or worried looks from her friends.

Ten minutes after Hermione's level explanation, Molly was still on a rant.

"Please, Mrs. Weasley, I've already told you! I had a brainwave for our project, the faster we get through it the better."

"And what, may I ask, is this mysterious potion?"

"You may _not_ ask, as it is _my_ business entirely!" Hermione finally snapped under the pressure. "Now if you would excuse me, I'm trying to enjoy my holiday!"

When she got back inside, she didn't go to the others; she ran upstairs to disguise the tears welling up in her eyes.

**

**

When she came down for lunch with Ginny, the twins stepped out onto the landing in front of them. "Hey, Hermione, can we talk?" George said with a grin.

"Not now, George!" Ginny said in exasperation. "After lunch, as least. You heard the grilling mum gave her."

"We haven't been yelled at like that for... must be about a month, Fred?"

"That'd be right. Anyway, don't forget."

Hermione once again ignored the looks that _everyone_ was giving her and escaped as soon as she could, Fred and George finding her in her room soon after. They sat side by side on Ginny's bed, and Hermione was struck by their cloned appearance.

"Look, we couldn't help noticing... we have an assistant in our shop with the same thing; he's always off in..."

"...some other world, right, but all he's doing is _listening_. We've seen the same look on your face, so we just wanted to ask..."

"...are you a werewolf?" They finished together.

Hermione was stoked; she had no idea she was that transparent! She needed to be prudent, always on her guard, just like _he_ had said...

"Yeah." She finally relented, adding a half-hearted growl. "Grr."

They glanced at each other before wide, identical grins lit their faces.

"Cool!"

**

**  
Monday January 8th

"Hey, Hermione! How was the rest of your holiday?" Ginny greeted her in the Common Room.

"Fine, my parents are great." She replied, drinking in the sight of Hogwarts as she always did.

"Uh... that's good, but I have something to say... the list has grown. Me, Harry, Fred and George, Ron, Neville. Don't even ask me how, but Neville figured it out for himself."

"And Ron?"

Ginny managed to look guilty. "Well, Harry and I decided..."

"Fine." She sighed. "Is he mad at me?"

"Only a little. It'll pass."

"Because Weasleys never hold a grudge." Hermione said sarcastically, just as Ron and Harry came around the corner together. They stood there looking uncomfortable.

"Come on, she won't bite!" Ginny teased Ron, sending Harry into gales of laughter. It almost seemed that everything would be okay.

**

**

First day, first lesson, Potions. Someone up there was cruel, Hermione had to admit. She took her habitual seat with more reluctance than she usually exhibited, both scared and excited to see Snape again after their breakthrough. She tried to convince herself that it was the only reason for her nervousness.

When he swept in, a strange calm came over her; suddenly sitting there wasn't so hard, the barbed comments weren't so important, and the reactions of her classmates were insignificant. She brewed the Potion given to her in a way she would have in Snape's laboratory- it was cathartic in a way, and by the end, she felt that it was a good outlet for her stresses.

She placed her vial on his desk without comment at the end of the lesson, and caught his eye for a second longer than usual. She flashed him a small smile before walking out with Harry and Ron.

She was going to enjoy this...

**

**

Tuesday January 9th (full moon)

"... due on Friday, please. Class dismissed." McGonagall said in a curt voice, the classroom emptying within seconds.

"I'm never going to get it done." Harry sighed woefully. "Hermione, can you help me with it tonight?"

"As a matter of fact, Harry, I cannot. I'm busy."

"But what..." His jaw dropped open as he realised. "Wow."

"Relax, Harry, it's going to be fine. I've done this bef..." She opened the door to her chambers, what she saw silencing her.

It was a mess. Her bed hangings ripped off, draws emptied and left hanging open, even the rug on the floor tossed across the room. She stepped through the shards of pottery, stunned. "What happened?"

"Hermione... could someone want something of yours?"

"I... _wait._" A sense of foreboding came over her as she lunged for the velvet bag in her sock drawer, now on the floor. Heart thudding, she pulled open the drawstrings...

Empty.

"No." She said slowly. "_No._"

"What..."

"Wolfsbane. It's gone."

"But who would do that? Who even _knows_?"

"We can figure that out later. Right now, I need to get to Lupin- before the sun goes down."

They both looked outside at the sunset, perilously close.

"_Run,_ Hermione!" Harry shouted, shoving her out the door. "I'll get Dumbledore!"

She sprinted like she had in the Final Battle but never since, stunning half of Hogwarts as she swept past. She was halfway through the Charms corridor when someone thought to question her.

"Hermione Granger! What is the meaning of this?" A furious Professor McGonagall grabbed her arm to stop her flight. "Ten points from-"

"I'm sorry, Professor, there's no time!" She glanced outside again, almost panicking when she was there was only a sliver of sun left.

"I don't see how..." Her eyes widened. The woman's fingers went still on her arm, and then dropped altogether.

"Hermione, are you trying to say that..."

She was off, weaving her way through the crowd going to dinner. She ignored the shouts of the crowd and skidded in front of Lupin's office, knocking frantically.

She felt a Detection spell flash over her; the door was yanked open by a distinctly ill looking Lupin. "You're cutting it fine, Hermione." He warned, letting her inside.

"Someone stole my last dose, Remus!" She cried. "Please tell me you have one last vial of Wolfsbane."

The dawning look of horror on Remus' face was answer enough.

"Even Snape doesn't keep spare! You need to get to the cell... Running takes too long. Floo to Snape's office." Remus chucked a handful of green powder on the flames, and Hermione practically leapt out of Snape's fireplace on the other end.

He was marking at his desk, but he jumped up immediately. "What are you doing?" He demanded. "Go back to your chambers, for Merlin's sake!"

"I'll explain while we run." She gasped. To his credit, Snape quickly yanked the door open and followed her to the cell. "Wolfsbane—stolen—none left..."

She felt a niggling sensation on her face, and she knew there was some fur.

They weren't going to make it...

"Here!" He barked, shoving her through the wall even as she shuddered in the throes of the transformation. He slumped outside the cell, quickly sealing it off so he wouldn't have to hear her screams.

This was _exactly_ what he had wanted to avoid. There was a student, one of his best, suffering agony not two feet away from him- and he hadn't done enough. It was in his nature to blame himself, even when others told him it was unavoidable- but in this case, he knew he had been careless. Why hadn't he brewed extra Wolfsbane?

A few minutes after they had arrived, a flustered Dumbledore and Harry came cautiously down the hallway.

"She is contained." Snape said shortly. "Unfortunately, missing even one dose of Wolfsbane will result in a full transformation. When I find the one that stole it..." His voice sank into a hiss, and no one commented for fear of being on the receiving end of his anger.

"Is there anything..."

"Go to dinner, Potter. It'll seem less suspicious." Snape said, dismissing him with a hand movement. Only when the Headmaster also nodded did Harry reluctantly leave.

"I assume you will be here all night?" Albus said softly after a moment. Snape nodded.

"Call me when it's over."

Then he was left in solitude, and silence. After a while he allowed a small amount of sound to come through- then changed his mind as the horrendous growls and angered yelps coupled with the scratch of claws on brick met his ears.

He gritted his teeth, not wanting to dwell on it. He instead thought of Granger at her best; brewing a potion, arguing a moot point with all the tenacity of a Hippogriff, reading a dusty tome with all the intensity of a scholar. He smiled at the memories, and then shook his head to clear them away. Why was it that he was dwelling on her? Was it merely because he had a duty to keep her safe and secret? Somehow, he didn't think that was it... he'd had to protect students before, and none of them had required the attention and time that he had been spending on Miss Granger.

He had always been struck by the plight of werewolves; of course, he would never mention it inside of Hogwarts, where pureblood prejudice was rampant and he would be lynched for the mere thought. Excluding the Remus factor, Snape had wished to find a cure- Wolfsbane was a close as he could get for a long time, an extremely frustrating result. Then the Ministry had to test it again, put it on trial, and then price it up to ridiculous profitable proportions. With a handsome sum to Lord Derillion, of course. Snape was silenced, impoverished from buying all the ingredients himself, and quickly becoming disillusioned with the profession. He only stayed long enough to finish his apprenticeship, then achieve his Master status with another wizard. When the Dark Lord ordered him to become a teacher, as much as he loathed the thought, he acquiesced.

Another strangled howl from the cell turned his thoughts from the past, and to the present. Granger... the enigma endured. He leaned against the stone wall of the passage, and began to examine his thought processes, a practice that he loathed yet he thought it appropriate in these circumstances. The thought of Lupin pursuing Granger... inexplicable anger boiled up. That mangy animal had _no_ right, even if she wasn't a student! She couldn't be tied down or owned... _Hypocrite, Snape. Do you have the right to assume that?_ He growled, ignoring that voice. Yet how well did he know her? An image came to his mind unbidden; her eyes filled with tears, just after the defeat of Voldemort, her robes ripped and covered in blood and scorch marks. At that moment she had seemed simultaneously powerful and helpless, overjoyed and saddened. She was a warrior, not a child; and she deserved to be treated as one.

Snape had never been so grateful for the sunrise.


	6. Concealing Emotions

A/N Thanks for all your kind reviews- I'm having just as much fun writing this as you are reading it!

In response to one inquiry, I don't write smut; romance, certainly, but nothing too excessive.

**

**

The first thing she remembered was the pain. It was also the second and third thing she thought about; as she began to think coherently, she realised she was covered in a thick woollen blanket and leaning against something warm.

She bit back a cry of pain as her bruised and battered shoulders were gently grasped. "Hermione, can you hear me?"

_Hermione..._ that sounds strange...

"Hermione?"

I should really answer...

"Miss Granger!" The voice finally barked, bringing her out of the stupor.

"Hfph..." She groaned. She felt him relax at the sound of her voice, even if it was an incoherent reply.

"How do you feel? Any broken bones?"

She thought about it, flexing a few limbs. "Not that I can tell..."

"We'll see later anyway."

Hermione suddenly realised why it was strange to be called by her first name; it was Snape talking to her so kindly, cradling her so gently, and feeling so warm to her chilled skin.

She swallowed thickly, wincing as her ruined throat stung. "I didn't hurt anyone, did I?" The fear grew until it was dispelled by his reply.

"No. It went fine, except for your present condition. Do you have any idea who could have stolen your Wolfsbane?"

Hermione felt her mind drifting again, exhausted. "Nope... but it doesn't really matter right now, 'cause you're here, right?" Her mind was on the edge of sleep, and she wasn't aware of what she was saying; she wuld be mortified in any other circumstance.

"I'm here." He agreed softly, adding in a whisper, "And I won't let anything happen to you."

Usually he wasn't one for empty promises; but as the girl drifted off into a healing sleep in his arms, he felt this was one that he would keep at any cost.

**

**

Wednesday January 10th

Hermione awoke (again), this time in a small room she didn't recognise. It was furnished simply, with only a bed, desk, and wardrobe in sight. The only visitor was Albus Dumbledore.

"Drink this, my dear." He said softly, and she gratefully accepted the vial of pain relief potion from him. She felt better within seconds, if still a bit stiff. "You're in one of our minor guest quarters."

"How long was I out?"

"You've missed breakfast and your first class." Dumbledore explained. "Professor McGonagall has agreed to cover for you, the usual Transfiguration extra credit project."

"Right... she knows, doesn't she?" Hermione remembered. "Well, the list keeps growing."

"I'm afraid you didn't have a choice; your behaviour could be explained away to the students, but the staff are more cunning in certain ways. It is entirely probable that someone will figure it out and tell the wrong people; but if we tell them first, we will be able to control the fall-out. This is only my opinion, of course; however, you must make this decision yourself."

"Can we prevent them from spreading the truth?" Hermione asked after a moments thought. "Some kind of Vow?"

"If necessary, I would be glad to perform one for you."

Hermione was quickly dressed and the worst of the bruises were covered, a superficial glamour on her face to hide the tired look. She hurried to catch the next class of Arithmancy, arriving only a few seconds late. She was mechanical at best for the rest of the day, giving those few who cared the Transfiguration excuse- although those closest to her knew the ugly truth of her absence.

It was after a small dinner that Hermione made her way to the Staff Room as planned, knocking respectfully at exactly 6:30.

"Come in, Miss Granger." She heard Dumbledore's call.

She stood at the end of the table, the twenty or so teachers staring openly at her in curiosity; what were they about to hear? It was obvious that Dumbledore had revealed nothing as of yet.

"Miss Granger, I believe an explanation would be welcome." Dumbledore said gently. She took a deep breath before beginning- she had decided on blunt.

"In the Final Battle, I was bitten by an enemy werewolf. All the transformations that I have undergone since that day have gone exceedingly well; except for last night, when my last dose of Wolfsbane was stolen from my rooms. This has all been under the supervision of the Headmaster and Professor Snape. In the future, I will endeavour to pose little risk to my fellow students of staff, and beg for your understanding in this matter. This condition does not bode well for my future, but I hope you can all see past that."

She trailed off at the looks on their faces. They ranged from blank to pale, red, open-mouthed, smirking (Snape, obviously) to... _Smug?_

The newly included Professor Ludwig was sitting back in a position of utter relaxation, a strange glitter in his eye and a twist to his lips. But before Hermione could ponder this, Flitwick asked, "Who already knows?"

"Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Professor Lupin, Professor Snape, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Neville." She counted off quickly.

"_Neville_?" Snape said, incredulous. "Who told Longbottom?"

"He figured it out for himself actually, Professor Snape." She said with a half-smile, savouring his expression of disgust and disbelief.

"No matter." Madame Hooch interjected. "But do you really think it wise to hide this from the Ministry?"

"A life tracked and controlled by the Ministry of Magic is a half-life." Snape said bluntly, without even looking at Hooch. "The policy is far outdated, and about to become even more archaic."

"What do you mean, Severus?" Pomfrey piped up.

"I mean, Poppy, that this condition is going to stop being a threat within a year or so." He replied coolly. "The Potion is almost complete."

"You mean... a cure?" McGonagall spoke up for the first time. "Why didn't you tell us before?"

"It had to be done in utter secrecy." Lupin joined in. "Lord Derillion will not be outdone if he can help it."

"In any case, I must Bind you to secrecy on this matter." Dumbledore said, raising his hand as the inevitable outcries came forth. "Please! This is not about trust; this is about keeping Miss Granger safe. Now, if you would pull out your wands and repeat after me..."

**

**

Hermione felt rather shaken after the Staff were placed under a watertight Vow, knowing that her secret had once again spread to larger proportions. She tried to eat dinner, and as much as her friends forced her to, she still felt sick to her stomach. She took the staircases slowly with her aching muscles and joints, returning to her ruined chambers to start cleaning up before returning to the Dungeons.

"That went rather well." Hermione commented in the dungeon that night, checking the consistency of one Potion. "But there was one thing out of place..."

"Yes?"

"Professor Ludwig seemed... amused."

"Ah. You noticed it too... yes, Professor Ludwig is a nasty piece of work; even Trelawney was a better Divination teacher than he. I know for a fact that he has accurate visions, but often uses them ill. I have been meaning to tell you tonight, he was going to betray you to the Ministry."

Hermione almost fell off her stool. "_What?_ How do we know if he said anything?"

Snape turned to her, suddenly solemn. "I never use my Legilimency unless it is of the utmost importance, Miss Granger. But in this case, I felt it justified. After the meeting, I discovered that he had first had a vision that _somebody_ at Hogwarts was also a werewolf. That was when he told the Ministry-"

"He _what?_" Hermione squeaked.

"-calm down, Miss Granger! Do you really think I would allow that? Well, he had notified the Minister for Reasonable Restriction of Dangerous Wizards, but your name was not involved in any way. This was when it went foggy... he had obviously tried to suppress the memory and make it difficult to see, but it was quite obviously your rooms. He stole the Wolfsbane as proof of its existence, and was going to give it and you in- but we placed the Vow on the staff, rendering him unable to reveal your identity."

"Wow." Hermione breathed. "I assume you recovered the Potion?"

Snape nodded, and then waited for her reaction.

"How _dare_ he? Why didn't he go to Dumbledore first, that would have stopped all this from happening! Did he have no sense of preservation to steal the Potion? I could have killed someone, and it would have been on _his_ hands!"

He just looked at her pensively as she continued to vent, sometimes walking around, sometimes standing still but shaking in anger. He observed that her face went deathly pale instead of red, her freckles standing out starkly. Her normally wild hair almost had a life of its own, the occasional shake of her head letting out yet another strand from the tie. After a short while, she looked straight at him.

"What?" She snapped irritably. "Haven't you got anything better to do?"

He merely chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. "Do you always look like that when you get angry?"

She blinked. "Like _what_?"

He realised that he probably shouldn't pursue that. "Nothing. Are you going to stir that, or is it going to explode?"

The rest of the night passed in relative peace, and Snape felt that same sense of apprehension as she left.

**

**

Thursday January 11th

McGonagall visited Hermione during her break at her Head Girl rooms, something that Hermione had never expected. They only spoke for a few minutes, but Hermione was comforted to know that her mentor was thinking of her. She once again encouraged her to think seriously on her future career; now that McGonagall knew the reason for her reluctance, she was even more insistent that she should not give up on herself.

Another Professor, however, continued to give her death glares in the corridors and at meals; Professor Ludwig was hated by his students for his intolerance with everyone, and his inability to see potential in anyone. Even Lavender and Parvati were shunned by the new Divination teacher, something that they regularly bemoaned.

Hermione could feel the entire Head table's eyes on her; some sympathetic, some annoyed, one furious (Ludwig) and one sardonic and amused (Snape). Harry and the rest diverted her attention after a while, so she decided to act normal. It was surprising how much of a struggle that was; to actively engage in inane talk, stupid jokes, the mundane.

After dinner, Hermione took her homework to a Courtyard inside the castle walls; one that was only accessible from one door at the back of a disused classroom, and it was her favourite place inside the castle to be with nature. The walls stretched up high to the battlements with only a few grimy windows, and the garden itself had grown half-wild; the garden beds themselves housed only a few plants of interest, and the rest were weeds. She curled up in her habitual position under a sycamore tree, deep within its root system. Within minutes, she was concentrating hard on her essay.

"I would take points from your House, Hermione, but I suppose this courtyard isn't technically out of bounds." Remus' amused voice came to her.

She resisted the urge to jump up. "Hey to you too. What brings you here?"

He looked at her. "You, of course."

"Uh... well, you found me." Hermione found that the conversation was getting surreal.

"I just wanted to talk... if I can interrupt your studies, of course." He sat down near her on the grass, looking younger in the dappled light of the trees.

"I wasn't really getting anywhere." She said, putting it aside half-gratefully, trying not to dwell on the fact that her studies weren't as important to her anymore.

He leaned against the rough bark of the trunk, staring up into the branches with a half-smile on his pale face. "Hermione, I want to be completely honest with you."

She opened her mouth to delay the inevitable, but he interrupted. "I need to say this; please wait until I'm finished?"

She could only nod helplessly.

He took a deep, shuddering breath. "I've always admired you, as a student... that brain of yours! I was staggered form day one, to say the least. Your essays were infinitely more mature than your classmates, and I couldn't have been happier to know that you always had Harry's back- especially when I couldn't be there for him." He was in full swing now, and Hermione didn't know what to do.

"As you will probably find out, being a werewolf is a lonely life. Sure, there are a few friends who really understand you... I had the fortune to have James, Sirius and Lily..." _What about Pettigrew?_ "...and I'm sure that Harry, Ron and Ginny will be pretty much the same for you. But the wider world isn't as kind; I've been run out of more towns and businesses than you can imagine. If Snape really perfects this potion... I could have a normal existence! I wouldn't have to live in the shadows, hearing all the time that I should be ashamed of myself. This is the start of a whole new life. And, as Minerva and Albus have told me often enough, I should really get some _real_ friends." He looked her in the eyes. "There's no pressure, Hermione; but if you feel as I do..."

Before Hermione could react, he swiftly closed the gap between them and crushed his lips to hers. She sat there in shock momentarily before jerking her head away. _What!_

He sat with a puzzled but soft look on his face. "What do you think?"

"What do I _think?_" She replied numbly.

"Well, what do you _feel_ should have been a better question." He laughed. "You always were precise about that sort of terminology."

"I... _Professor Lupin._" She found her voice. "I really don't think- or _feel_- that anything like that is... a good idea." She rushed on, suddenly tired of trying to spare his feelings. She had too much to deal with, and the lovesick Professor Lupin wasn't high on the list. "I have _no_ inclination to go down that path- or any path- with you. I respect you as a teacher, as Harry's guardian, and as a fellow werewolf, but with no romantic connotations whatsoever!"

"Ah." Was his flat, emotionless reply. "In that case, I bid you good day, Miss Granger." He abruptly got up, brushed off his fraying robes, and left the courtyard.

Hermione sighed, somehow knowing that this was going to come back at her one day- probably very soon. Glancing at the sky, she saw with a jolt that it was most likely way past her meeting time with Snape. Cursing herself, Lupin and the failure of Muggle wristwatches, she hurriedly packed up her books and ran almost all the way to the dungeon.

"You're late, Miss Granger." His acidic voice came out of the darkness beyond the front room.

"I _know_, Professor Snape, did you really thing I didn't?" She snapped, his presence suddenly inciting a strange anger.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for your tardiness and impertinence. Now come here, sit down, and work." He snapped back. She sighed and followed his instructions, sitting down with a huff.

About ten minutes into the session, he grew tired of her mood. "Really, Miss Granger, you're being rather vicious with the knife. Please don't tell me those roots did anything to aggravate you."

"No sir." She said though gritted teeth. "I know I should leave my emotions outside- especially ones that you would term 'ridiculous juvenile tendencies'- but..."

"'But', Miss Granger?" He said with a hint of curiosity. "I am not averse to hearing what provoked you so; it must have been an event of some significance."

She carefully set the knife down for fear of slicing herself accidentally. She didn't know what to tell him; whatever she said, she was sure that he would sniff out a lie immediately. Knowing that she would most likely get yelled at, she decided to tell him the awful truth. "Professor Lupin as good as proposed to me, as odious a thought as that is; and as I declined him pretty soundly, I foresee some tension- just be warned for any confrontations that may occur in the laboratory."

"I see." He growled, his thick, rich voice forcing malice into those two words. "So... the werewolf had the guts to pursue you after my strict instructions to the contrary." He abruptly rose to stand by a workbench on the side of the room, gripping its edge with considerable strength. Hermione noted vaguely how white his knuckles were going before she processed the reply.

"You took it upon yourself to intervene after the Christmas scene, did you? Did it ever occur to you to stay out of my private business?" Hermione also leapt to her feet, being careful to step away from her cauldron, in Snape's direction. "Believe it or not, I can handle myself!"

He stared at her. "I know that." He slowly turned until he was leaning on the bench, looking straight at her. "Yet after the events of the past few months, I have felt an obligation to you- to protect you the best I could from what you will eventually face. Malfoy is a prime example of _that_ variety. Lupin was a mere annoyance; you should not have to deal with that sort of thing! He's an idiot on every level if he thinks that a werewolf pairing is the best course of action. I doubt he even has lasting feelings for you; you were more of a momentary kindred spirit, if you will."

"You seem to be well versed in the actions of idiots." Hermione said sardonically.

"Death Eaters were idiots, all following the prize idiot in the form of the Dark Lord. Believe me; nothing about the nature of the human mind can surprise me anymore, least of all the primitive mind workings of Lupin."

Hermione also leaned against the large wooden bench, feeling a little faint. "What you said before, about protecting me... why?"

"Why not? Please, don't give me the Gryffindor excuse; I've had enough inter-House rivalry to last me several lifetimes. It isn't a very Slytherin trait to protect the innocent, the defenceless, and the weak- not that I see you as such. Yet that is the role I have often found myself in, as a spy and as a teacher. But there is a larger reason, and that reason lies solely with you."

Hermione looked at him, the questions in her eyes evident to the man in front of her. "What about me?" She whispered.

He took a while to compose his even reply. "Mainly because of the circumstances of the Final Battle; I admit to a feeling of guilt that I had not imprisoned all the werewolves as I had been instructed..." He saw the momentary shock in her eyes. "Yes, if I had acted faster, you would have been saved..."

"If you had not acted at all, I would have died that night. As I see it, war rarely hands down blame; only cause and effect, those who do harm and those who suffer for it. I don't blame you, or the werewolf, for anything. I was a casualty of a larger picture; or, as Ron would have put it, a pawn of the chessboard."

"That is a mature response, and one that I fully expect to hear from you. I have only one qualm with your theory, however." His eyes stared down at her, and she couldn't help noticing how deep they seemed; how she felt she could get lost in them, drown in them and never resurface. _Not that she would mind..._

"Only one? That is indeed a compliment." Hermione smiled faintly, not drawing away when he put one calloused hand on her upper arm; it was heavy on her slender shoulder.

"You were never a pawn; I always saw you as more of a queen." He swallowed, Hermione watching the movements of his throat with fascination. Suddenly, he pulled his hand away and moved back to his cauldron, the moment lost. "We should return to work if we wish this to be concluded before dawn."

Hermione obeyed slowly, wondering in the midst of her work about what had just happened. She had felt a stab of disappointment when he had pulled away- but why? What had she _wanted_ to happen? Was that even a question that she knew how to answer?

In any case, it was harder than ever to walk out of the dungeon at the end of the night, back to her fully restored room, and lie awake until the morning came.

**

**


	7. Compass Points

A/N: Sorry this took a little longer, it was a bugger to write... a fairly major plot flaw down the line forced me to change the next few scenes.

Please enjoy, and review with constructive criticism/wanton flattery!

**

**

Friday January 12th to Monday January 15th

Hermione had his words in her mind for the next three days; they would pop up unexpectedly in the middle of meals, classes, study time, and social time. It could have been frustrating, but she found it soothing. Knowing that someone was looking out for her, watching over her... she shied away from the term 'guardian angel', but she knew that Snape's role was essentially the same. It got to the point that Ginny and Harry decided to stage an intervention; Hermione dodged their rather obvious attempts to bring her out of her reverie at various points in the day, and instead blamed her periods of reflection on lack of sleep. They weren't completely convinced, but they were kept at bay for the time being.

It was a golden Saturday morning, the Enchanted Ceiling showing only blue skies and the occasional puffy white cloud to break the sunshine. Harry, Ron and Ginny had Quidditch practice early, so Hermione was left with Neville to finish breakfast.

Hermione tried to refrain from looking at _him_ at the Staff Table, but she snuck the occasional glance. To her sharp eyes, he looked positively buoyant; what could have brought that on? Certainly not the weather... she watched him closely, curiosity getting the better of her senses. He leaned in the talk to the wizard next to him, Professor... _wait._

Who was that sitting next to Snape? Hermione had never seen this red-headed, boisterous man in all her life. Yet there he was at the Staff Table, talking to Snape in undertones and eating breakfast like he belonged there.

"Neville? Who's that man eating with the teachers, second from the left?"

Neville swallowed his egg with some difficulty, and then looked up with a slight frown on his face. "That's Professor Briggle, I think. The girls were talking about him before; new Divination teacher."

Sure enough, Hermione couldn't see Ludwig anywhere, or feel his beady eyes on her.

"What happened to Professor Ludwig?" She asked.

"Dunno, but Lavender's over the moon; they all hated Ludwig. This guy's meant to be a lot better, some kind of expert too."

Hermione pondered this, a suspicion growing in her mind about why this 'rearrangement' had taken place. Snape had a glint in his eye last time they had discussed Ludwig's betrayal... she shivered, hoping that whatever had happened to Ludwig was painful, but not permanent.

She went out to watch the tail end of the Quidditch training session, for lack of a better offer. From what she knew of Quidditch, it seemed to be going well; yet it didn't hold her attention for long, and she ended up sitting in the stands, face to the skies, lost in thought.

As usual, the object of her musings was Professor Snape. It had been a long, long time since she had thought of him as disagreeable; his teaching methods were harsh but necessary, considering the dangers of thirty novices brewing highly toxic and versatile potions. Any doubt in his personal character was lost upon the revelation that he was always a stalwart spy for the Order, which had only been enhanced by Hermione's dealings with him. He had been more than attentive during her troubles; he had often been the only one to comfort and support her in crucial times. She remembered the aftermath of the last transformation with a wince of old pain, but relaxed when she recalled the way he had called her back from the brink. _Hermione..._ her name had sounded strange from his tongue, but altogether sweeter. The informality somehow broke down a barrier that had always existed, and now she felt completely relaxed in his presence.

He was still somewhat of an enigma, she had to admit, but he had been slowly opening up, offering the occasional morsel of information for her to pounce on and treasure. She smiled when she remembered the moment that he had pretty much admitted to inventing Wolfsbane, and his subsequent brusqueness. The way his hands curved delicately around his ivory-handled knife when he cut ingredients, the look of peace that only came from complete absorption and concentration... yes, she had to admit, she had been watching him with fascination for a long time.

_For what purpose?_ Hermione wondered, trying to understand her own feelings with the intensity that she attempted to solve Professor Snape. It seemed more important to her than just a supervisor for Potions and her transformations; he made her feel... safe. Content. Herself.

As much as she may be reluctant to admit it, her concern and attention for Snape went way, way beyond student interest. It went beyond caring for a troubled soul.

It went all the way to the heart.

"Watch out, Hermione!" Ginny barked, bringing her out of her thoughts a moment too late. A Bludger swept past her ear, missing her by a bear inch. They were trained to avoid audience members, but they were often troublesome and tricky.

Ginny came in soon after it to collect it, marking the end of the training session. They were all sweaty and red faced from their exertion, yet Hermione thought that she had spent her own time in a much more difficult and strenuous manner; she had looked at herself, and seen her true feelings.

She was afraid- not of her natural feelings, but of how this may change _everything_. She resolved to act carefully, tread lightly. She would not disrupt the balance of the cauldron that was their relationship in any way.

**

**

He found that he was thinking about her an inordinately large amount of the time; sometimes, even when he was in the midst of brewing, he thought he felt her presence, yet he was always mistaken.

He was not usually a man for self-recrimination or analysis, but he loathed this feeling of confusion; so he sat at the head of the first year class writing their essays, and was soon deep in thought.

The first image that came to his addled mind was one that had been haunting him for a while; the image of Hermione in his arms, battered and bruised, her glorious eyes shut against the light. He had called to her, and she had awoken- but why was that significant? He frowned, trying to get his thought in order. Was it a vestige of guilt from the final battle? Was it a concern for the wellbeing of one of his best students, if not the best in the school?

_Or is it something else?_

The only conclusion that he drew was that Hermione Granger was someone that he had cared for more than he had allowed himself to in many, many years.

**

**

The dungeon was tense that night, or maybe it was just Hermione's imagination. There seemed to be a question hanging in the air, and she gave voice to a possibility.

"Sir, what _really_ happened to Professor Ludwig?"

He turned quickly away from his store cupboard, as if startled that she was there. "He discovered that the sun of Bermuda would be most beneficial to his health." He said dryly. "Especially after he discovered his Prophecy."

Hermione looked slightly puzzled, so he continued. "Ludwig had previously worked in the Department of Mysteries, and had spent many years looking for his own orb- which his colleagues conveniently found and asked him to retrieve yesterday." He snorted. "It was a simple matter to change its contents; the most pertinent phrase is, I believe, '_...shall die of unnatural causes in the place of learning'_. Thus, he retired gracefully- and fled for the tropics."

"Brilliant, sir." Hermione grinned. "The only way to keep him away; through his stubborn belief in his own field."

"Precisely." Snape returned to the cauldron, still feeling that faint sense of satisfaction on a job well executed. "And now, combined with the Unbreakable Vow, he won't reveal your identity to anybody. You are safe, for now."

"I won't let down my guard, at any rate." Hermione assured him, knowing that she shouldn't be complacent even with her main threat gone. "Still, it might be nice to..." She trailed off, not exactly knowing what she wanted; to ignore it; to accept it; to live happily ever after with it? All of those seemed so unrealistic.

"Don't get ahead of yourself." Snape said, knowing what she was trying and failing to say. "You're coping remarkably well, considering." He cleared his throat, and Hermione had the feeling that he was about to say something important. "I know how much this Potion means to you- but don't start relying on it, hoping for a quick result. It's incredibly likely that we'll hit many barriers along the process, and it's important that you take them in your stride. This could be the solution to your problem, yes—but waiting for it and postponing your life for it isn't the right way to live."

Hermione digested this as she ground some crystals into dust, considering what he had just revealed to her. She had been dangerously close to pinning all her hopes on the Cure, and he was right to suggest that she needed to plan for a future in which there was no chance of being totally normal again. With infinite care, she tipped the mortar of power into her cauldron before answering slowly. "You're right, sir. I've been thinking of little else lately... maybe I should concentrate on academics and choose a career regardless."

"I would strongly advise it." He replied, peering into her mixture with a practiced glance. He stayed standing, leaning on a workbench beside her cauldron. She thrilled secretly at his proximity, but betrayed no emotion. _He must not know, it would ruin everything..._

"Incidentally, I've just received a letter from a colleague of mine in Ireland... asking for several candidates for a highly competitive apprenticeship with him in a mixture of Charms and Potions. With your permission, I would like to add your name to the list." He said it with an air of nonchalance, but he looked intensely at Hermione, waiting for a response.

She swallowed, and her eyes sparkled like jewels in the sun. Snape knew that he had a winner.

"Apprenticeship?" She repeated faintly and delicately.

"Most likely a four year period, I should imagine. You may deliberate if you wish."

"No... no, I think I've decided." She said in a rush. "It sounds excellent! I would be honoured to apply for it."

"I thought so... right up your alley." Snape said in satisfaction, glad that he had re-established contact with the man in question. _Face it, Severus, you provoked him into accepting Hermione deliberately. You knew that he wouldn't ask questions- I mean, a vampire taking issue with a werewolf apprentice?_

He shook these thoughts away, a true as he knew them to be. He tried another tack. "Any conclusions?" He looked once again at the liquid broiling away under Hermione's careful watch.

Her mind was back in business within a millisecond, describing the various properties that she had extracted from her experiment. He added the occasional comment or query, satisfied with both her arguments and her answers. "I must admit, Miss Granger, you have improved a great deal."

"Mainly due to your tuition." She said modestly, going slightly red.

"I disagree." He said, knowing that compliments were few and far between from him- but sometimes they needed to be given, for those who deserve them. "You have a natural affiliation, to a certain degree, but one that you have multiplied with simple hard work." He paused, unsure of how the next comment would be received. "Yet... no, I must say it- I have never had a student before of your variety, Miss Granger. I will be sorry to see you leave Hogwarts."

Her face was turned towards him, going alternately red or pale and still at each word. "That is high praise indeed, sir, and I thank you for it."

"It was freely given, and utterly truthful."

She nodded, deep in thought; as if in a trance, she dispelled the flame and slowly moved to the store cupboard to replace a jar of Gillyweed, and then turned to reply once again. "I don't feel afraid anymore." She said suddenly.

He didn't reply, unsure of what to say.

"You saw my Boggart, sir- what did you conclude?"

_Damn._ Not a track that he was willing to follow. "Your fear is utterly understandable, if that term can even be applied. You cannot bear the thought of inflicting your condition on anyone else." He emphasised _anyone else_, knowing that the victims of the Boggart-Hermione were himself and Potter.

She sighed, shaking her head slowly. "The thing is, I've felt _fear_ before- utter moments of dark panic, when I feel that I can't breathe or move a muscle under its immense weight. All I feel when I see that scene in my mind is... anger, sorrow, recrimination. No fear."

Snape gripped the edge of the bench, knowing it was crucial to say this right. "Boggarts are not the measure of oneself- just like the Mirror of Erised, they do not represent us entirely. The role of a Boggart has been greatly simplified over its history; it often doesn't represent a mere _fear_. In your case- and mine- it might be more accurate to say _dread_."

"Dread..." She said, admitting the feeling with a clench of her small fists. "What I dread most in the world..."

Snape felt in a dream as he walked towards her, not touching her in comfort, but merely being there beside her.

She once again revelled in his presence, and then started to process something that he had said, saying absently, "In your case, sir?" She bit her lip. "I don't mean to pry, I'm sorry..."

He didn't look angry. "Forget it." He said softly. "It's unimportant... what _is_ important, is that you face that dread. It can block your thoughts, actions, future. I would _never_ permit you to hurt anyone, Hermione. Is that understood?" He looked suddenly intense, like he was bottling up some emotion.

"You may not always have the chance." She whispered. "You can't promise that." _Lying on the ground, blood soaking through the robes and spilling out onto the floor beneath..._

He nodded, closing his eyes briefly. "I'll rephrase that... as long as you are with me, Hermione, _no one_ can be the cause of your misery. I will defend you if it's the last..." He turned his head away for a moment, as if he needed to restrain the thought.

"Last thing you do?" Hermione finished for him. "That's what I'm worried about."

"I know... I recognised myself, and Potter." He admitted, sending a shockwave through Hermione; how long had he known- from the beginning? "I won't let that happen." He repeated, looking deep into her now. "You are not only that monster, Hermione. You are more than that- and more than that to me."

Her breath hitched in her throat, her heard thudding to the words that she had always wanted to hear, somewhere deep inside her psyche. Not just the recognition, but the fact that he understood what needed to be said, what he should say to allow her anxiety to be dispelled.

Ever so slowly, they leaned together, Hermione's thoughts in a whirl; the thought of inappropriate behaviour and her previous promise to hold back didn't occur, neither did the revulsion that most would associate with Snape interrupt the moment. All she could think of was his unstinting kindness, and his promise to look past the monster, as empty as it may be... _he cared._ And that was enough for her.

She closed her eyes at the last instant, conscious that he had done the same. She could feel his gentle breath on her cheek before their lips met, erasing all other sensations.

It was the most natural thing in the world; as their lips met, they instantly knew that it was right. His slowly moving mouth on hers, the hand she had entwined in his hair, their touching torsos, and the feeling of his hand on the small of her back holding her tighter. It seemed like an eternity as well as an instant when they broke apart, not moving back, lips hovering over each other.

Hermione opened her eyes to see how close he was, instantly falling into his eyes and relishing their liveliness that she had never before seen dancing in his eyes.

"Hermione..." He whispered, almost as though he was trying it on his tongue like an exotic fruit. "Hermione..."

Then they were entwined again, and Hermione found that the experience didn't diminish the second time. If anything, it was more insistent; her lips parted under his tongue, and she explored his taste like it was some life giving elixir.

"...Hermione, we can't do this." He gasped when the broke apart once more. He stepped back, gathering himself again. Hermione felt a faint stab of disappointment, but she also kept her distance, the reality of their 'situation' dawning on her. She quickly formulated several plans and struck them off one by one, until there was only the final option left.

"Not like this." She agreed, hating how it sounded.

He sighed, reflecting her reluctance exactly. "I couldn't jeopardise your future in this way... you must understand, that in any other situation..." He left it hanging, keeping his eyes on her face.

_Any other situation..._ An impossible hope came to her. "Should I be marking the conclusion of my formal education for another reason then?" She said cryptically, holding her breath of his response.

He hid a small grin, Hermione marvelling that she had the ability to make him smile. "That was the general idea. What happens after that date is entirely up to you."

"Of course... erm... Professor." She said weakly, thinking of how strange it would be to call him that after what had happened.

"I believe that our time here has elapsed." He replied mechanically, starting to regain his normal teacher mode. "I will see you tomorrow, Herm- HerMiss Granger."

She left reluctantly, her head lighter than air; she didn't get any sleep through her swirling thoughts and memories, her mind often returning to _him_.

Needless to say, he didn't sleep either.

**

**

The next few weeks were hard for Hermione; she had to sit in his class as normal, pretend that she hadn't been changed in a profound way around her school friends. It was harder to keep to herself than the werewolf secret, something she thought wouldn't be surpassed. But she persevered, once again trying to focus on her studies. Unfortunately, there was often times when she had to invent excuses to work excessively after all the coursework had been completed- without it, her thoughts would wander... then her rational mind fell apart altogether, and it took a fair while to get it back in gear.

Potions became both a curse and blessing. She thrilled in his very proximity- internally, at least. Externally, she continued the act of defiance through tenacity. He was as acidic as he could muster, but he never again took House Points off her. Hermione didn't know if that was a conscious choice, or he just couldn't bring himself to punish her in that way. Either way, the Potions class didn't even notice the change.

The only time that Hermione could relax was in the evening, when they worked on the Potion. Which was ironic, really; it used to terrify her. But she felt herself calm down in the fumes, the heat, and the hypnotic and methodical work that they preformed.

It also helped to be in his presence; Hermione regretted every moment she was with him that they couldn't allow intimacy, but she relished the chance to get closer to him at all. They often talked, deeper than they had before; she told him a little of her sheltered Muggle life, and he didn't seem adverse to it. In return, he would offer the occasional piece of information about his early life, school life, career, and Death Eater experiences. Anything that he talked about was immediately filed away in Hermione's quick mind, and she knew how privileged she was to be in the great man's confidence, where so many others had failed to be.

Their peaceful coexistence was often excited by a new development in their potion; it turned out that Lupin had some valuable information about full fledged transformations and their variety according to the person and who they were bitten, which required them the change certain aspects of the potion. Although the new complication set them back, they were more determined to get it right than get it done quickly.

Hermione now kept her Wolfsbane in a special, hidden and heavily guarded chamber in the wall, and she took it religiously as the weeks wore on. Dumbledore had altered the wards so that only he, McGonagall and (most surprisingly) Snape were allowed inside her chambers without her express permission. As the time drew near, she didn't feel much apprehension; she knew that her plans were safe, the panic button was foolproof, and her Wolfsbane course would be completed this time around. There was no way she was going to repeat the horrific scenes of last full moon.

**

**

Thursday February 8th (full moon)

Potions was the last lesson of the day; Hermione noted that Snape used every excuse possible to walk past her cauldron and look at her anxiously (she assumed anxiously; to everyone else, he would be positively disgusted, but she was learning to interpret his facial expressions). At the end of the lesson when they handed up their essays, his hand brushed hers ever so slightly, sending a tingle up her arm that lasted for a good hour. She took her final Wolfsbane dose before dinner, vowing once again that she would eradicate the disgusting Potion once and for all.

The time soon drew nigh, and Hermione excused herself from the Common Room, not even needing to cite homework issues; it was expected that she spent more time on work. This it was that she shut herself in her bedroom, heart thudding at an abnormal speed. She sat on the bed, feeling slightly useless; she hated this part, the endless waiting...

Once it started, she wished for the tense silence to be back. The discomfort soon grew to agonizing pain, but she was able to keep her strange half-human half-wolf whimpers to herself.

Once she was fully settled, she sat in front of the fireplace, shivering in pleasure at the warmth on her fur. She didn't _feel_ dangerous; she didn't _feel_ bloodthirsty; but she knew that it was a distinct possibility that many were suffering that at that very moment.

She came to the realisation that she actually had Snape to thank for her current state of mind; he _invented_ the potion for Merlin's sake. It was just a shame that is took so long for the Ministry to allow it on the market, so to speak; so many years of Remus going wild every moon when the solution was caught up in red tape.

_They'll do the same for your potion._ Hermione hoped that their connections would move it through the Ministry faster, at least in her lifetime (to be optimistic).

Her super sensitive hearing heard a human stepping outside. Instantly alert, she ducked behind the coffee table, trying to flick her tail out of view.

"Hermione, I know you can hear me." A silky whisper floated through; she immediately relaxed as she identified the man. "If you think it's safe for me to enter, howl once. If not, howl twice. I can hear you."

Hermione considered the options for a moment before throwing caution to the winds. She howled once sharply, almost startling herself with the foreign sound.

"I'm coming in now." Snape slowly whispered the teacher's password and disabled some wards before appearing in the archway.

His heart rate faltered for a minute when he saw her sitting on her haunches in the corner, but he quickly recovered and shut the door, muttering many wards more than strictly necessary.

He slowly turned to face her again, bending down with his fingers scraping the floor in a crouching position. "Are you in control?"

Hermione nodded, feeling exceedingly stupid; she was certain she looked strange also, because a flicker of humour flashed in his eyes.

_Why are you here?_ Hermione wanted to ask. She cocked her head in what she hoped was a questioning fashion.

He understood her question immediately. "You shouldn't have to face it alone." He said softly, holding out his hands to her. She approached cautiously, feeling slightly unsettled on her paws. She sniffed the outstretched palms tentatively; instantly her sensitive nose was assaulted with a multitude of senses, some obviously potions ingredients, and some his own distinct aroma. She could have breathed it in all day...

Snape obviously had different ideas. "May I sit?"

She nodded again, and he made himself comfortable on the divan in front of the roaring fireplace. She followed him, almost feeling like an obedient dog with its master, and resenting the implication. She was a _wolf, a lone wolf, proud and masterless_...

She shook herself, trying to drive away the obviously wolfish thoughts. Feeling suddenly bold, she leapt up onto the divan near his knees, surprising him a little. She warily eyed his reaction, but once he seemed content, she settled herself beside him.

"I assume you feel this is as surreal as I do." He sighed. "Yet it doesn't scare me in the slightest what you are."

She bared her teeth to him, lolling her tongue out in a version of laughter as she heard his pulse increase tenfold at the sight of her intimidating fangs.

"Okay, you win. You're incredibly scary when you want to be." He acquiesced. "But I'm sure that even terrifying monsters can't turn down this..." He reached out one pale hand and scratched her neck, behind her large ears, down her spine...

Hermione was in heaven. Not caring what he thought of her reaction, her eyes closed in pure enjoyment and her back arched of its own accord. She came out of the trance to hear him chuckling, a deep throated sound that thrilled her to the core.

"I didn't think so."

She didn't even care about her reputation, even if he never let it down; she pressed herself into his warm side, begging for more.

_He's a worthy packmate..._

_Oh, stop it._

That sat there for what seemed like an eternity, merely enjoying each others company in a way that Hermione had not thought possible. It was with profound regret that Hermione watched the moon dip below the horizon and the skies regain some colour from its oppressive darkness.

She felt the trembling come over her; she quickly jumped off the divan, startling her companion. She looked at him once for support before turning away.

She had never wished to be strong so much in her entire life; she wanted to show him that she could persevere, that even the transformation wasn't too much for her. So it was that she barely whimpered as she regained her human form. Her first act was to reach for a large red robe that she had placed on top of her bed and whipped it around her form, sitting on the four poster's edge as her limbs felt weak.

"Well done, Hermione." She heard him intone behind her. She shifted to look at him, seeing that his expression was carefully blank with only a hint of worry. "How do you feel?"

She shrugged. "As I usually do." She found herself saying, not knowing how she should reply.

He smiled slightly. "If you feel sufficiently recovered, I give you leave to appear at breakfast." He stood suddenly, his weight shifting back and worth in indecision. Hermione assumed that he wanted to stay as much as she did, but he eventually relented to practicality. "Good morning, Hermione." He left without another word.

Hermione supposed that he felt a bit useless; he had kept her safe and content all night, but now they were back to he routine. At least he had called her Hermione; she felt that there was a strange double meaning to her given name. Only when he used it first could she act the way she wanted around him; it was like a password between them, one that didn't come around often enough for Hermione's liking. It was a distinctly subdued Hermione that appeared at breakfast, a mood that was noted by many, but only questioned by a few.


	8. Compelling Evidence

A/N: I thought I would reward you all with a quick update... Special mentions to Wingsrookie and TheMathGeek for their kind comments!

**

**

Hermione was walking from her second class when a First Year Ravenclaw came running up to her. "Granger!" He almost skidded into her in his sudden stop.

"Erm... Taylors, isn't it?" She guessed.

He nodded furiously, his red face going back to normal after a few moments of strenuous breathing. "The Headmaster requests your presence in his office _immediately_." He finally got out. "I've never seen him so..." He was lost for words.

"I'll be right there, Taylors." Hermione assured him quickly, heart thudding. "Thanks." She didn't quite run, but it was quite a determined stride that led her to his office.

The staircase already opened, Hermione made her way up. The door was opened by the Headmaster before she could knock, and Hermione had to agree with Taylors; she had never seen him so... _Frazzled._ Not since the end of the war.

"Hermione, my dear, do come in..." He rushed on. "Now we don't have much time, and I'm afraid that I have not come up with any plausible solutions."

They were both quickly seated, Hermione not waiting for an invitation in her haste.

"The Ministry knows that a werewolf is in our midst, as you know... other than Remus, of course. Professor Ludwig told them that much, but could not reveal any more under the Vow. However, they have decided to work on this scrap on information and..." He closed his eyes briefly. "...try to force you into revealing your identity."

"How?" She whispered, fearing the worst.

"Tonight, in order to leave the Great Hall after the evening feast, each student and teacher will have to place their hand on a silver mirror. It will be presided over by Ministry officials; some of the best. The Mirror cannot be enchanted; if it touched anything but your skin, it will know; the officials themselves can detect any attempt to Confound them in any way. You cannot be absent from the Feast; that would be extremely conspicuous, and they will find you and force you. As much as I try, Hermione, I cannot think of a solution."

"What has the Ministry said to you?"

Albus' face perked up for a moment. "Ah, now _that_ was a very entertaining conversation. I insisted that I could not reveal a student's personal information, even if I knew their identity; and even if I could, I most certainly wouldn't."

"So that's it then." Hermione said numbly. "If we don't come up with a solution in the next few hours, my life is over."

They sat in glum silence before throwing increasingly desperate ideas at each other, their dual creativity stumped after an hour. Hermione wanted to scream in frustration, cry out at the injustice; but it was unavoidable.

"If it _does_ happen, you mustn't be caught up in it." Hermione said finally. "The teachers cannot be broken under the Vow..."

"I think a few well placed Obliviates might be in order." Dumbledore said suddenly, a strange glint coming to his periwinkle eyes. "Yes... that may be the only..."

"I'm sorry, Headmaster. I'm sorry that you had to-"

"Don't think that way, Hermione. I would do the same thing again if I could relive the past few months; don't be hard on yourself."

"That's it!" Hermione gasped, jumping up. "Headmaster, do you think I could call take myself from the past- _before_ I was bitten- and convince _her_ to take my place?"

He considered it for a minute, Hermione waiting on bated breath as his quick mind weighed it up. "You know, Hermione- that may actually be the most practical course of action."

"Do we have a Time Turner?"

"Yes, my own should suffice... you must choose the moment carefully, my child, a time that you were most definitely alone and would not be missed... somewhere unobtrusive in Hogwarts where you can disappear and reappear..."

Hermione cast her mind back for the perfect moment, quickly finding a match. "How about... when I was staying at Hogwarts before the students arrived for the Order meeting? I can remember a lot of times when I was alone... especially once I was allowed to move into my Head Girl room."

"Date?"

Hermione frowned, then pulled out her organiser from her robe pocket, restoring it to its original size before scanning the pages. "September 17th. Saturday. I moved in at 3:00 in the afternoon, so I would target 3:30."

Dumbledore flicked his wand, and a large velvet case zoomed through the air towards him to land with a muffled thump in front of him. He opened it almost reverently, gold flashing from within.

"This was a gift to me from Elder Brelin, descendent of Merlin, and a good friend of mine." He said softly. "He'd be glad that it's going to good use." He handed it too her. She was almost afraid to put her fingerprints on its polished and unblemished surface, cradling it in her hands carefully. The chain swung from her cupped hands, almost like a pendulum.

"I'll be going to my rooms, then." Hermione said lamely, trying not to think too much about her mission.

"You do realise that we'll have to perform a Memory Charm on your past self, of course?" He said as she turned to go.

She sent him a small, impish smile. "I know; if I remember rightly, it worked perfectly- in that I don't remember it at all."

**

**

"What was that about, Albus?" Snape said to his mentor when he visited a few minutes later. "The Ministry has people here? Did I hear correctly?"

"Ah, so the rumour mill is working overtime. Yes, Severus, they're here to apprehend a werewolf."

He almost choked. "_What?_ And I assume you have a plan? Say yes, Albus."

The older man sat back in his chair. "Miss Granger's taking care of it. Most resourceful, that girl. She even came up with a solution before I did."

"A solution to _what_, exactly?" His voice throbbed dangerously.

"Think, my boy. What's the most archaic device they could come up with for testing a werewolf?"

It only took a minute. "_What?_ Where did they unearth the Mirror of the Moon from?"

"Quick." Dumbledore observed.

"Also unavoidable." Snape countered. "Not by Polyjuice, concealment charms..."

"Calm yourself! You are showing quite a strange defence for Miss Granger... do you believe that she, of all witches, could have come up with a way to fool it?"

"No, it frankly doesn't surprise me." He muttered. "Where is she now?"

"The question, my friend, should be _when_ is she?"

**

**

Hermione tucked the Time Turner into her pocket, rushing through the now empty corridors to her rooms with a plan formulating in her mind. When she arrived, setting the appropriate wards, she ensured that she didn't carry anything into the past that would cause a fuss. You know, a newspaper article dated from the future, information about the war, something that could rip the fabric of time and space.

Taking a deep breath, she stood in the precise centre of the floor and studied the Time Turner. Realising to her relief that it was exactly the same as her old Time Turner, she turned to required dials to send her back the six months needed.

It was a dizzying experience; she wanted to close her eyes from the scenes swirling around her as time moved backwards, but they seemed to be glued open. As the moment with her in werewolf form and Snape passed by, she felt a twinge at what he would say at the risk she was taking. But then the time was moving faster into a colourful blur which made her sway, almost falling over...

It stopped immediately, and Hermione found herself in the same room, this time with a half-unpacked trunk and none of the personal touches she had made. Hermione quickly checked the room for herself (her past self), but she heard a few sounds from the bathroom. Before she could think, she saw her past self step out of the bathroom.

It only took a few seconds for her to react, but she wasn't quite fast enough; her past self, still running on War-time reactions, Petrified her without a second glance.

Now that the enemy was immobilised, she walked over and stared at the Hermione lying on the ground.

"Hmm.... interesting." PastHermione said softly. "What have we here?"

_I'd tell you if I could talk._

"Polyjuice? A Glamour?"

_My, I can sound self-assured when I'm being academic._

"Let's find out, shall we?" PastHermione bound her securely with ropes before releasing her from the Petrificus.

"Before I say anything, please assure me that no one know I'm here." Hermione pleaded.

"You want to know if I'm alone- if no one can help me when you attack me?"

"No, I want to know that this will be kept confidential." _Was I always this suspicious?_

"Continue." PastHermione's face was impassive, but she could tell she was curious.

"I'm you from the future, actually. So I have to wish whatsoever to harm you." Hermione saw as PastHermione'e eyes travelled to the top of her robes; sure enough, a glint of the device could be seen.

"We both know the rules-"

"'You must not be seen', I know. But it's a special case."

"Hmm... why don't you sit more comfortably, and you can tell me all about it?"

Her definition of 'more comfortably' was to remain tied, but half-lying on the lounge. After what seemed an eternity of questions (and the occasional embarrassing reminiscence), PastHermione was convinced of their shared identity.

"So... this crisis? Does it have to do with Voldemort and the War?" She shook herself. "No. Don't answer that; even when you erase my memory, I don't want it floating around in there."

"Wise decision." Hermione said dryly. "And it's not really. I just need a body double for something..."

**

**

PastHermione looked around her once they landed, noting that they were in the Head Girl rooms. "Like what you've done to the place." She said blandly. "Is dinner soon?"

Hermione looked at the clock. "You have ten minutes. I suggest you stay here until then."

"Agreed."

Hermione looked at her past self and then at herself in the mirror, deciding that the differences between them were so minute that only she would notice.

_And maybe a certain someone..._

"Uh, I should warn you about something."

"What?"

"Well... I'm friends with a few people that you wouldn't think to be. I mean, things have kind of changed now..."

"Just tell me enough to get through it."

"Well... Professor Snape isn't a bastard anymore."

Her face lit up. "Really? Wow..."

"Well, he is to everyone else in class and everything. He just... lets down his outer shell sometimes."

PastHermione looked at her shrewdly. "To whom, exactly?"

Hermione shrugged. "We work together on Potions. I suppose he couldn't be bothered to be mean to me."

"No... there's definitely something else..." PastHermione mused, but Hermione interrupted her. "Dinner time! Good luck, and remember the plan."

"You can count on me." PastHermione vowed. "Why would I stuff up my own future?"

They grasped hands briefly, and Hermione watched tensely as PastHermione walked out.

**

**

Snape was on tenterhooks at dinnertime; it seemed that the students knew something was up by the way they whispered amongst themselves and glanced (or, in some cases, opened stared) at the three Ministry officials at the Head Table. Snape quickly identified them; Figsley, Rowland, Eady. Their presence had always meant trouble for them; why should it be different now?

Snape focussed almost all his attention on Hermione without appearing to, watching her from many angles in the windows reflections. To him, knowing that she was not _his Hermione_, she seemed extremely different; maybe not as thin, maybe not as pale. She seemed to be blending in well, however; he surmised that it was nice to chat to Harry and Ron without the habitual gloom of Voldemort around them. His very absence from existence had released the Wizarding world of so much tension.

He also noted with a certain amount of amusement that Lupin was on edge; Dumbledore had informed him of Hermione's safety privately, of course, but he was more likely nervous because of the presence of the Mirror of the Moon. It was infamous in werewolf circles.

"May I have you attention, please." Dumbledore said, but the Hall had already gone silent as the food had vanished, waiting expectantly for his forthcoming announcement. Even Hermione looked politely curious.

"It is my duty to inform you that the Ministry is once again present in our school; however, this visit should not be disruptive to your regular schedule." Many breathed sighs of relief; both the Boggart tests and Umbridge's reign must have been in their minds. "This will only take a few minutes with your full cooperation."

"When we exit the Hall, it is compulsory for all students to place one hand on the Mirror that will be set up for that purpose. Failure to do so will be looked upon most severely by me and the Ministry of Magic officials, so I would beg you not to make unnecessary scenes arise."

"I assume by your bright and curious faces that you wish to know the purpose of this; I am, once again, duty bound to inform you that a student with a case of lycanthropy-"

"_Werewolf!_" Someone shrieked from the Hufflepuff table, causing instant pandemonium and ruckus. It took Dumbledore several moments to restore order.

"You have nothing to fear! It is an unconfirmed story, and I assure you, it is quite impossible for a werewolf to harm you outside of full moon. So please, starting with the Ravenclaws, file out in an orderly and efficient manner."

Snape noted that the Mirror had been set up on a wooden stand in the doorway, guarded by the three Ministry officials who had moved down during Dumbledore's speech.

"Minerva, Severus, if you could also guard the doorway." Dumbledore gave Severus a quick, searching look before he swooped down and took his place as a sentinel.

The Ravenclaws stood up and filed through, each student hesitating to touch the cold silver surface- even if they were convinced of their innocence. They all breathed a sigh of relief as all their friends moved through easily. Snape had to yell at them for loitering in the corridor outside, and they reluctantly moved towards their Common Room- most likely hiding just around the corner.

Then it was the Hufflepuff's turn, and then Gryffindor. Minerva's jaw twitched slightly as her House was called, obviously worrying for Hermione even though Dumbledore had assured her that she was safe. Snape showed no feeling at all as the younger years strolled through, some looking the officials in the eye with (what they thought was) rebellious glances.

The Gryffindors he knew and loathed the most started to come through; suddenly he saw Potter's face through the crowd; he looked nervous, but not incredibly so. He hoped that Dumbledore had pacified him and his friends enough; he had called Harry and Ron to his office and told them to spread it to those who knew Hermione's secret _not_ to interfere. _Keep your heroics out of this, Potter._

It wasn't Harry he should have been worrying about.

Potter and both Weasley's had already gone through unchallenged when Snape caught Longbottom, close to the Mirror, only two people in front of Hermione; there was a wild look in his eyes, a strange and rather out of place expression. He had come equal with Snape, the shadows of the hall half-hiding his small wand movement.

"_Fractio_!" The boy said suddenly.

Snape wasn't quick enough on the uptake; he whipped out his wand to so something defensive, but it was too late...

The polished silver smashed into pieces, causing many to scream shrilly as the pieces flew across the space. One Ministry wizard roared in anger and surprise, but there was nothing he could do; it was shattered, and Snape knew that all its powers had been shattered along with it. Chaos ensued as the students came rushing back towards them to see the source of the commotion, giving him the opportunity to be surreptitious.

He came to a split second decision, quickly shoving Longbottom out of the searching gaze of the officials. _What I do for you, Longbottom..._ He found a shard on the ground and quickly whispered _Fractio_ at it. _Priori Incantatem,_ check.

"Who was it?" The hysterical wizard cried; Rowland. "Did you see, Figsley?"

Figsley was looking directly at Snape with narrowed eyes. "I think I have a pretty good idea..." Snape knew it was useless, but he whipped out his wand, willing Longbottom to remain a coward and keep out of it. A glance told him that Hermione was standing with the boy, gripping onto his arm and whispering under her breath.

"Professor Snape!" Figsley shouted. The Hall went deathly silent.

"Yes? Was there something, Figsley?" He asked mildly, still pointing his wand between the pompous man's eyes.

"You are under arrest!"

A shockwave of gasps rippled through the Hall, especially from the Slytherins still inside. He decided that he would go down fighting, if only to maintain the illusion... this was going to be interesting.

"And how did you intend to do that, Figsley?" He drawled, enjoying the flicker of fear on his face.

"Force."

"Severus, really! Move _back_, students!" Minerva shouted in desperation.

"Minerva, I readily admit my crime." He hissed to her under his breath. "But I won't go down without a fight."

"Your choice."

"What will it be, Snape? Will you come with us, or resist arrest and end up serving longer in Azkaban?"

"I prefer the third option." Tired of the repartee, he prepared to fire his first curses.

"No, Severus." Albus' firm voice said from behind him.

He gritted his teeth. "Albus, don't tell me..."

"Stand down, Severus! Don't do this."

Seemingly reluctant, but actually relieved that he wouldn't have to fight the three men (which would most likely result in additional charges of grievous bodily harm), Snape held his wand between his fingers, pointing his faithful weapon at the ceiling. "Go ahead, Figsley." He spat.

They quickly Disarmed him and bound his hands behind his back, leading him out of the Great Hall and into the Entrance Hall. The student body watched, astounded by the sight of their seemingly untouchable Potions Master and Head of Slytherin being led away- almost submissively, except that he retained the posture and expression of a man that could not be touched.

"Of course, the examinations will continue!" Eady shouted, the only one who had remained silent during the encounter. "Any silver will do! Rest assured, we will find you!"

_Maniac._ Snape thought in disgust; an Ex-Slytherin student, overzealous in his persecution of minorities- he would have been Death Eater material eventually.

He looked about for any sign of Hermione, either one would have done; he hoped that she would learn the truth (and punish Longbottom accordingly, as he couldn't get to the little git at the moment). Snape realised Malfoy was approaching him; when he was unable to get close, he shouted, "Any instructions for our House?"

Snape sneered, displeased that he didn't see either Hermione. "Try not to lose too many Points." He finally said in his usual tone.

And then he was gone, out on the expanse of lawns, glancing back at his home and wondering when he could ever return.

_Hermione..._

_I'm sorry._

**

**

PastHermione wasn't stupid. She knew as soon as the test with the Mirror of the Moon was announced that this was why she was required; her future self was a werewolf. It came as quite a surprise, but she refused to dwell on it; as far as she could tell by looking at her friends, there were no close casualties from the War yet- only her humanity.

PastHermione watched in horror as Snape took the blame for something that was obviously Neville's to bear. As he defended himself, she sidled up to Neville and grabbed him. "Don't interfere; he must have his reasons."

He only stared at her, open-mouthed, as if he still couldn't believe what he had done. "But... didn't I just save you?" He whispered back.

"I have my ways of beating it- we can talk about it later!" PastHermione hissed, quickly refocussing on the growing conflict between Snape and the other men. Her mind whirled as he threatened violence, and then backed down on Dumbledore's orders. He still looked extremely proud as he was led out, as though nothing could keep him down.

A moments silence followed his exit, quickly followed by a cacophony of raised voices. They mostly agreed that the wolf was in Slytherin House; who else would he protect but his own?

Gryffindor and Slytherin had to reassemble and touch a silver platter found on short notice and enchanted with the basic detection spells, which was quickly achieved. The last Slytherins were watched going through with a collective suspense- but not one person reacted to the silver.

The student body was buzzing. Was there ever a werewolf? Or is it still among us?

Hermione felt herself pulled into a nearby classroom, almost screaming until she realised that the hand clutching her arm was _very_ familiar. The only thing wrong with it was that the rest of her was missing. _Invisibility Cloak_.

"Hermione?" She hissed. 'What are you doing?"

Locking the door quickly, Hermione pulled off the Cloak. PastHermione was surprised to see that her face was tear-streaked.

"Thankyou for helping me... I mean, of course you were going to, but it still means something..." She took a shuddering breath. "Anyway, time to go back. I'll follow you to our rooms."

"Fine. And when we're there, you have to explain to me _exactly_ what relationship you have with Snape."

**

**

Hermione discovered that patience was beyond her when she was useless. She tried doing homework, but it just seemed ludicrous. She read a good book, but it hardly engaged her. It was only with the remembrance of the Invisibility Cloak did she think herself stupid enough to actually carry out an escape.

She quickly fetched the Cloak from Harry's dormitory (not a single lock or ward, causing her to roll her eyes) and made her way down to the Hall.

The Gryffindors were almost through when disaster struck...

She watched the scene from her place on the banister of the second floor, not noticing when tears rolled down her face as Snape was led away- for defending her. He had just given up _everything-_ his home, his job, his only friends- to protect her.

She saw his searching gaze sweep the students, but she knew he wouldn't find her face there. She was the flicker of disappointment as he turned to leave, his arms held on either side by the odious officials. He looked back once, and then he was gone.

PastHermione was snatched and followed. The trip was too fast for Hermione under the Cloak, because she _really_ didn't want to discuss Snape with her past self. It would just be... weird.

She was saved the embarrassment however, as Dumbledore was already inside her rooms. "That didn't exactly go according to plan, did it, Hermione-of-the-past?" He looked at the girl and sighed deeply. "At least you are protected for now, Hermione-of-the-present." He smiled at her _while she was under the Cloak_, stunning her. He really was an amazing wizard. She took it off slowly.

"But Snape- what will they _do_ to him, it wasn't even his fault-"

"I know, Hermione, but you will have to trust me when I say I will do _everything_ to ensure Snape's future." He turned to PastHermione. "Now, my child, Obliviate time."

"Goody." PastHermione said dryly.

"You're being remarkably blasé about it." Hermione said.

"I know I'll see it from your perspective one day, and that's enough for me."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I will take you back and erase your memory there. Say your final goodbyes, if you wish."

Hermione and Hermione smiled identical sheepish smiles. There was nothing that needed to be said; after all, they had the same thoughts.

Hermione felt a flash of surrealism once again as her double vanished along with Dumbledore, the man reappearing alone seconds later.

"It is done." He sighed.

Hermione was overwhelmed, and she broke down thinking of the look on Snape's face as he left Hogwarts.

A look of profound regret.


	9. Common Ground

**

**

The scene: Gryffindor Boy's Dormitory.

The event: A lot of yelling.

"Why didn't anyone tell Neville?" Ginny hissed at the boys, who were managing to look sorry for themselves, despite the fact that their least favourite teacher had just been arrested through their negligence.

"He was down with Sprout at the greenhouse, and we kinda..."

"_Forgot_ about him? In case you didn't remember, he figured it out all on his own. Don't you think he would have been a _little_ scared about the Mirror?" She shouted.

"I am right here, you know." Neville said timidly from his seat, but no one reacted.

"Fine! Hermione's safe though! I'm not allowed to know _how_ she did it exactly, but she's alright!" Harry said meekly.

"And we lost Snape in the bargain." Ron added. "That was the best part."

To everyone's surprise, Neville beat Ginny to the man's defence. "Don't say that!" He said loudly. "I don't like him either, but that's the second time he's saved Hermione's life recently! He even let me off the hook, something which I didn't expect... I was fully prepared to go to Az-Azkaban for this, but he _knew_ I wouldn't last a minute, so he took the fall for it! Does that sound like a man we should hate?"

Stunned silence. "Wow, Neville... I see you've finally gotten over your fear of him."

"Not in the slightest. But you of all people should know, Harry, that fear shouldn't rule your mind."

A soft and easily identifiable knock broke the suddenly pensive atmosphere. Ron leapt to the door, Hermione smiling at him as she came through. "Hey guys... sorry about the commotion back there..."

They quickly assured her that she had no need to apologise, and she was quick in instead commending Neville on what he had done with such bravery, considering the knowledge he had. He went bright red and soon changed the subject.

"I hope he's alright." He said hesitantly.

"Snape?" Ron snorted. "The Ministry is pretty much all ex-students; they'll be terrified of him."

"What could they charge him with though?" Harry frowned. "I mean, will his wand show that he did it?"

"Yeah. He used the same spell on a shard just before he got caught." Neville piped up.

"That's pretty much sealed his guilt." Ginny said grimly.

"Good riddance..." Ron muttered under his breath; but it was loud enough for Hermione to catch. She stood up, towering over the stubborn redhead.

"_Good riddance?_ Do you have _any_ idea what Professor Snape has done for me?! He saved my life in the Final Battle, he makes my Wolfsbane, he covers for me every full moon, and you think he's not _worth_ anything? Oh, and there's more." She snapped when Ron didn't look convinced. "We're working on a _cure_. A CURE, Ron! A normal life for me, for Remus, for all of us! If he gets locked away, Merlin forbid, that's my last chance for a normal life _gone_."

Ron had gone bright red, but now he was pale and almost trembling. "Cure?"

"Yes, Ron, _cure_."

"Oh."

"That's right. So please, Ron, don't ever insult Professor Snape in front of me again." She decided to make her exit. "Oh, and Harry... I have to give this back..." She took out the Invisibility Cloak and handed it too him. "As much as I have breaking the rules, it was exceedingly useful tonight."

"How did you defeat the Mirror with _that_?" Ron said incredulously.

"Wouldn't you like to know, Ronald Weasley." She smirked.

**

**

Saturday February 10th

The _Daily Prophet_ the next morning had its usually skewed take on the events of the previous day; apparently he had destroyed an important and priceless Ministry artefact with no evident motive, a story which completely differed from what everyone at Hogwarts knew was true. For those who still believed everything the _Prophet_ said, they were soon converted to the crowd who merely subscribed to it for the crosswords and the laughs.

Hermione received a letter after breakfast, eagerly opening it and being slightly disappointed that it was from Dumbledore. Upon reading the loopy script, however, she was mollified.

_Miss. Granger,_

_I have heard from Professor Snape in his detained state, and I wish to assure you that he is fine; he inquired after your wellbeing, and I hope you didn't think it too presumptuous that I replied in the positive. Any correspondence with you would seem risky at best._

_Arthur and Percy Weasley have been assigned to his defence, and although he deplores it, he must be secretly pleased to have two old friends on his case. _"I seriously doubt it." She snorted._ I have every confidence that you will not be revealed; our mutual friend has a resistance to Veritserum and is a very accomplished liar, if that is a quality to boast upon._

_He wishes to inform you that the remaining Wolfsbane Potions are in his private store cupboard, password Cicero. If you could also distribute it to Remus that would be most appreciated._

_Your steadfast companion,_

_Albus Dumbledore._

**

**  
"Cicero." She commanded, and the door creaked open. On the bottom shelf there were eight neatly labelled vials; _H: 15/2 H: 22.2 H: 1/3 H: 8/3 L: 15/2 L: 22/2 L: 1/3 L: 8/3_

Feeling warm at the thought that he labelled them according to her first name, she placed them all carefully in her Cushion Charmed bag and walked to Remus' office, hoping that she could just leave them somewhere.

No such luck.

"Hermione! It's great to see you." He said, forcing a smile on his face. "Did you need something?"

"Uh... I have your Wolfsbane."

His smile faltered a little. "Yes, thankyou..." He took the vials with an awkward clink, shutting them securely in a nearby cabinet.

"I was just wondering, Hermione... how did you manage to beat the Mirror?"

"I'm afraid I can't say, sir." She said apologetically. "The fewer people who know the better. Did they make the teachers do the test as well?"

"Yes, after the students left... you should have seen the look on that man's face when I told him I was already registered... but that's what we must expect, I suppose."

_So submissive._ "I suppose so, sir."

"I'm sorry about Severus." He said suddenly. "He was never one I thought I would worry about, but he turned out to be a better man that I thought he would, seeing him at school... I guess he really does have principles."

"Even if they're not on display." Hermione agreed, thinking about his intervention with Remus about her. He hadn't mentioned it; either it had escaped his mind entirely, or he had disregarded it as typical Snape behaviour and shrugged it off; to Remus it would have seemed like Snape was trying to stop Hermione from being happy, which was a ridiculous notion. _He is my happiness..._

"Well, I'll see you next Defence lesson." She said, realising that the silence had grown as he looked at her with his sad eyes.

"You can always count on me."

Hermione definitely got the impression that it was a double-edged statement.

**

**

Sunday February 11th to Thursday February 15th

Hermione thought about Snape all the time; she couldn't really help it, she was worried sick about him. Dumbledore had not passed on any more correspondence, and the only bits of information she could get was from Ron, a regular recipient of his father's progress.

"They found a loophole today!" Ron exclaimed triumphantly in their afternoon study session, about a week after Snape's arrest. "The Law said something about commandeering the school for special sweeps 'for the wellbeing of all the students' and not taking into account the wellbeing of the specific student- i.e., the werewolf."

"That doesn't seem like much of a defence." Harry observed, tapping his quill in thought.

"But there's more!" Ron read on. "They didn't actually have approval from the right Head of Department either; it was technically illegal to search us regardless of age, as well as inhumane to force a minor into admitting the condition _without parental consent_."

"We've got them." Hermione said in delight, snatching the letter. Her face fell at the very next statement from Arthur. "_This may seem like enough from a logical wizard's point of view, but the Wizengamot is anything but logical. They're more likely to convict on hysteria and prejudice than let him off on the very laws they created. It infuriates me to admit it on plain parchment with black ink, but I think there is little hope for a complete acquittal. I only hope for a shorter sentence- they seem convinced that he willingly collaborated to smash the Mirror, knowing it to be beyond repair; the only chance he has to escape Azkaban in the next twenty years is if he gives up his co-conspirator, the werewolf. I know he never will; the noble side of him would die before he allowed it to be so."_

Hermione read it again, and again. Harry and Ron were silent beside her, also mulling over the implications.

"I need to have a plan." She said, the fragility evident in her tone. "I have to get him out."

Not a word was said from her friends.

**

**

Snape once again looked in disgust at his prison uniform. Really, do they have to look like pyjamas? Robes would do just as well, and keep out the cold...

He knew that the cold he was feeling, however, was unavoidable.

The Dementors didn't have anything to do with temperature.

Every time the mist crept closer, he once again began to tremble, like a child... to his disgust he couldn't control it, no more than he could control his Boggart or what appeared in the Mirror of Erised. He was immediately swamped by his fears, bad feelings, images that made him want to scream out loud.

But he didn't; now that he thought about it, the Dementors were probably having a very hard time extracting happy memories. He didn't have very many, after all; the memories and feelings that Hermione invoked were often the first to go.

Hermione...

**

**

Saturday February 17th

Hermione had made her decision; she had never made one harder, but all the same, she believed in it wholeheartedly. She hadn't told her friends what she was planning to do; they wouldn't understand why. Sure, if it was one of them; but why give up your life for your Potions Professor?

"Headmaster, I need your help with something." She said firmly.

"If it is in my power." He said cautiously.

"I know how to get Professor Snape out of there."

"He sacrificed himself for your safety, Hermione... don't do anything rash with that responsibility."

"I know that, but I know that this will work! Do you think that, in exchange for my identity, he would be let off?"

"That kind of bargain is exactly what he warned me against, Hermione. He told me to allow no compromise..."

"I'm coming to you as a courtesy, Headmaster. I can do this without you if you like, but it would be more dangerous for us all." She said, knowing how disrespectful she would sound. "There was more to the plan than that. If I agreed to reveal myself _after_ school ended, and you were placed under a Vow to ensure that I registered myself, Snape would be released. We will work on the Potion and, if it works, I should only have to experience the prejudice for a few months at least. What do you say?"

He considered it gravely, sighing deeply. "I accept, Hermione. I would be glad to act on your behalf... I'll Apparate there immediately, talk to Arthur, and then to the prosecuting officials. This may not even come before the Wizengamot, if it pays off."

"His trial's in a few days." Hermione pointed out. "We need to act quickly."

"I can do that, Hermione; for his sake."

**

**

She waited on tenterhooks for the results of her proposal, noting with trepidation that the Headmaster was still away at lunch-time. She was called up in during the next lesson, and it took all her self-control not to sprint the whole way there.

"Good news, Hermione." Dumbledore said as soon as she entered. "The Ministry has accepted the spirit of your deal; however, Severus will still have to spend a few more weeks in Azkaban, as well as pay a hefty fine for the destruction of the Mirror."

"That's... tolerable." She said, the relief evident. "How did Mr. Weasley take it?"

"He seemed satisfied. He thinks that the werewolf is in Slytherin anyway, so the agreement to reveal yourself didn't have as much of an emotional impact as it does to those who know it's you. To be quite frank, he seemed relieved that the werewolf would be known by the Ministry."

Hermione winced. "I suppose he's just thinking of public safety; for those who can't afford the Wolfsbane and have to spend their time in Ministry cells at full moon, it's essential to have them accounted for."

Dumbledore nodded, agreeing with the sentiment if not the action. "I was not allowed to see Severus unfortunately, but he should be coming back in early March."

Hermione felt suddenly buoyant, smiling at the outcome for the first time in days. "Thankyou, Headmaster. It was a small price to pay for the freedom of an innocent man."

**

**

Monday March 5th

"Get up." A harsh voice came through the darkness. Snape felt that the Dementors were keeping their distance, so he opened his eyes.

A human gaoler. Protected as he was by his dog Patronus beside him, his face was pale and his eyes were heavy and haunted. He indicated with one hand. "We're going."

Snape thought dimly that it must be for his execution... or was it for his trial? Did they usually have those first?

In any case, he painfully rose to his feet, if only for a change of scenery. He was surprised to see that he was shown into an empty room, with only one other door.

"Wait here." The man said, slamming and locking their door behind him, the bolts sliding home in several places at once with a muted creak.

Snape stared at the door across the room, his eyes boring into the dark wood panelling. After a few tense minutes, he was half-relieved to see Arthur Weasley and one of his numerous sons come through.

"Good news, Severus." He said immediately. "You're leaving today."

The prisoner just looked at him. "Excuse me?"

Arthur looked vaguely uneasy. "I said, you can go. The Ministry is letting you off with a fine."

He laughed harshly. "Sure, Arthur. After what I did."

"It's true, Professor." Percy added, looking unfazed. "We have successfully petitioned for your release."

Snape felt a strange relief fill him, to be replaced by horror. The memory of a past conversation...

_Turn in the werewolf, and we'll let you go._

"No!" He gasped hoarsely. "She can't-"

"The werewolf hasn't been revealed yet." Weasley interrupted. "They agreed to the end of their school year."

"_She_." The father said thoughtfully. "A female Seventh year student, Slytherin or Gryffindor..."

"I wouldn't go any further with that chain of thought, Arthur- if you value the life of an innocent." Snape warned him.

He looked as if he was going to argue, but he instead handed over a sack. "Your belongings."

Snape eagerly retrieved his wand, feeling a part of himself return. Azkaban had been known to have a profound affect on a Wizard's power and personality, already demonstrated by his verbal slip earlier.

"Let's take you to Hogwarts." Mr. Weasley said softly, and Snape couldn't agree more.

**

**

Today was the day! Hermione was silently jubilant the entire morning, the feeling of accomplishment settling over her. She had been waiting for almost a month for this moment, their reunion at last. Her companions, not knowing of her plan, had no idea what had set off her quiet optimism.

They would soon find out.

Hermione had been told by Dumbledore that Snape would be back for lunch, all going according to plan. When the food magically appeared on the plates, she was disappointed to see that the man of her thoughts didn't also appear.

However, a few seconds into their meal...

With an entrance reminiscent of Mad-Eye Moody, the massive double doors to the Great Hall swung open loudly, all students turning to see the cause of the sound. Hermione held her breath, hardly believing that it could be true.

By the expressions of her classmates, she knew it must be him.

He stepped forward into the Hall, gave a sneer to the collective student body, and began his long walk to the staff table.

There was complete and utter silence, except for the quick, staccato thump of his boots hitting the stone floor. Hermione was amused to see that several First Years nearly fell off the bench as he walked by.

He was getting closer. Hermione noted with a pang that his face was gaunter than usual, and his strides didn't quite have the gravitas of before his imprisonment. However, he still displayed his own special brand of extraordinary power and captivation, the eye-drawing quality that Hermione had felt so mysterious.

He finally reached the Staff Table, taking his seat with his feline grace, and reaching for his goblet.

The room still hadn't said a word.

He glared at them. "Well? Was there something?"

Every head in the room returned to his/her plate, and heated conversation started once again, with Snape's return the hot topic.

"Why'd they let him out?"He finally he finally

Seamus said with a frown. "That was criminal, what he did."

"Your dad's on his case, Ron! What happened?" Parvati shouted, the Gryffindor table eagerly awaiting his response.

He went red. "I dunno, really... the trial was meant to be today, but obviously he got out of it; maybe some kind of deal?"

"Maybe the werewolf gave themselves up!" Seamus said excitedly. "Are there any Slytherins missing today?"

Hermione kept her head down, noting that Harry and Ginny were both glancing at her often but trying to be surreptitious about it. As much as she wanted to drink in the sight of him at the Staff Table, she didn't know if she could control her emotions if she did.

Finally, it was over. Hermione snuck a glance; he had left by the side door as he always did, and she calculated that it would take him five minutes to get back, then Dumbledore would visit him, them probably some of the staff and Slytherin students...

She glumly resigned herself to their normal meeting time after dinner.

**

**

The period before he was due to meet Hermione was interminable. A succession of people whom he thought didn't really care all came to reassure him that they were behind him, advocating all the way. This show of _loyalty_ was often so cloying that he felt he should be physically ill. But he bore it with some measure of civility, grateful at the same time that Dumbledore's choice of temporary replacement for Potions was a man of few words and careful action, even if he couldn't control the class.

Dinner had almost the same atmosphere as breakfast, without the prolonged silence upon his entry. The Headmaster's statement was brief and to the point; Professor Snape has returned, will resume teaching next week, thanks to Professor Wertward, etc.

Snape contemplated upon his time in Azkaban while he was waiting for Hermione.

He really wished that he wouldn't think about it, but he knew that was unavoidable. The drained feeling of having your memories slowly devoured by Dark spirits, the sense of utter despair, the inability to even form coherent thought- Snape was beginning to understand how hard it must have been for Black to a) keep himself sane, b) escape, and c) form relationships with others after his experiences. He shuddered to think of those criminals who were there for years on end; how could anyone last that long? He wasn't even in there for a month...

From what he had heard, the inmates usually had something to keep them sane, keep them strong. It couldn't be happy, or it would be sucked out in an instant. Snape had realised what his motivation would be, almost a mantra that would ensure his sanity.

_Hermione needs me._

It may have seemed like he thought Hermione weak; but the opposite was true. He knew that she would survive perfectly well on her own, but that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to protect her, make sure she didn't develop the same shell that he had. He wanted to make sure she didn't change for the worst.

That wasn't a happy thought, but it was strong.

It gave him hope.

The tentative knock on the door threw him out of his morbid thoughts. He yanked the door open, knowing who it would be.

She stood as she always did, head tilted up defiantly, wide eyes examining him minutely. No words coming to his mouth, he stood aside and let her inside. They walked side by side to their laboratory, not touching, wondering how this was going to pan out.

Snape needn't have worried.

Hermione cracked first; she threw herself in his arms, burying her head against his chest. He cradled her close, marvelling at how well she fit in the crook of his neck.

"I missed you..." She whispered, knowing that it should be said.

"I missed you too." He murmured. "I would have been lost without you to think of..."

She looked up at him, suddenly wary. He thought he knew why.

"And yes, I _am_ mad at you for giving yourself in." He added. "I expressly told Albus _not_ to let that happen."

"Since when have I obeyed to my elders?" She said disparagingly. "I talked him into it, if that helps."

"Not really. The fact is you thought that _my_ happiness was worth _your_ future."

"Not precisely... if we finish the Cure, it's a moot point, isn't it?" she cocked her head.

"Key word _if_." He noted dryly. "You have an extreme amount of confidence in our experiment."

"I've been doing a bit of work." She said negligently. "I think we're pretty close."

He sighed into her hair, drowning in its dreamy scent. "I should have known; can anything stop that curiosity of yours?"

She laughed, the movement feeling strange against his chest. "It's more of a stubborn streak, actually. I don't let go of _anything_. I don't abandon my dreams..."

"At this point, I think I should say how grateful I am to be indebted to you."

"Don't mention it; but, now that brought it up, there _is_ something I want you to do for me..."

**

**

Hermione was back in her happy place. There was no other way to describe it in her mind; the very fact that he could spend time with him, in the same room... that meant more to her than she could have ever imagined.

They worked on the Potion at all hours, now that they had a deadline- graduation. Hermione thought it was fairly amusing that her entire life would change on that day, not just marking the end of her time at Hogwarts. She would be registered as a werewolf, be cured, and...

Well, she didn't know what exactly was going to happen with _that_.

Remus had agreed to be their first test subject, probably more willingly than any other of his kind would have been considering the circumstances. They checked their work constantly, rewriting the same equations dozens of times and cross-referencing all their findings. Hermione enjoyed it immensely, and she was certain that Snape derived a certain amount of contentment as well.

He had been quiet since his release, his mind often deep in gloomy thoughts whilst it would usually have been calculating and logical. Hermione endeavoured to bring him out of these obviously dark periods, and it was true that the Potion often brightened him up (if that expression could relate to Snape's mood whatsoever). She had been careful to keep her distance when required, but they always had some physical contact over the evening. It seemed to be some need, something to keep them going throughout the day when they had to act indifferent to each other's presence.

Hermione often noticed her friends giving her odd glances, or asking obvious questions about her health. She knew that she was becoming reclusive in their eyes, but the truth was that her mind was always somewhere else; somewhere infinitely more agreeable.

**

**

Tuesday March 6th

Snape was surprised at the amount of work she had done in his... absence. He wondered again how often such a perfect match of mind and method was achieved; he was almost certain that they could do anything, given the right amount of time.

But would they ever have the chance?

He was blisteringly aware that she would most likely move on, at least for a while after Hogwarts; she had to see the world, experience independence. As much as he loathed admitting it, she should really have some young wizard to go with her...

It was her choice in the end. And he would accept whatever decision she made.

He still didn't have to be happy about it...

**

**

Thursday March 8th

"I don't believe it." Hermione said numbly, touching the cauldron in front of her with something akin to reverence. "This is it."

"Yes." He replied softly, just as stunned as she was. "Has Lupin agreed?"

"One hundred percent. I think he would rather die of some unknown side effect than miss the chance to be our test."

"And we would all mourn his passing, of course." He said acidly.

"Behave." She said before she could stop herself. Seeing nothing but a slightly amused reaction from him, she continued. "I would gladly-"

"No." He pre-empted. "You will _not_ take this for another full moon at least. We have to see the side effects before I let you anywhere _near_ it."

Hermione had reluctantly acquiesced, once Dumbledore had agreed that Lupin was to be their only guinea-pig for the time being.

The Potion cooled overnight, ready for the full moon the next day.

**

**

Friday March 9th (full moon)

"You're jumpy today, Hermione." Harry observed to her before breakfast. "Be careful."

"It's not only my night..." She hesitated, cast a _Muffliato_, and moved closer just in case. "We're testing to Potion on Lupin tonight!" She said gleefully. "I hope it all goes to plan..."

"Hermione, it'll be fine! With you and Snape behind it, there's nothing to worry about."

She smiled. "Thanks, Harry. I'll try to be discreet in the meantime though..."

"Good, because I've heard a few students say that they'll trick the werewolf into showing itself. I have no idea what they might be planning..." He warned.

"Wouldn't it be mainly against the Slytherins?"

"Mostly, but you can't be too careful." He shrugged. "Now, I'm-"

"Starving? Yes, I rather thought you might be." She laughed.

**

**

Ancient Runes seemed to take forever, and although Hermione was careful to act like her mad-note-taking self throughout the day she was beginning to grow tired of the facade. She wanted to shout it out; we may have a cure! The lesson ended and Hermione was the first out, going to her rooms to take the Wolfsbane (with a forlorn look on her face that she couldn't be taking a different potion), eat a quick dinner, and meet Professor Snape for a few minutes.

"Don't you worry about a thing, Hermione." He reassured her. "You take care of yourself tonight, and I'll fill you in as soon as the sun rises." They embraced- too briefly- and Hermione made her way to her rooms, tears standing in her eyes for reasons she couldn't quite identify.

**

**

Saturday March 9th

As soon as Hermione returned to her human form, she was dressed and ready to hear the news, heart pounding. She stood there, pacing, for an impatient and interminable ten minutes before she had a visitor.

It was Dumbledore.

Her heart sank into her shoes as she yanked the door open. _Has something happened? Oh... what if... could Lupin have...? Severus! My life would be over. It would all be my fault._

"Stop looking so frightened, child." He said gently. "It went well."

She breathed out in one massive sigh. "Can I go down?"

"Certainly."

They didn't speak on the journey, Dumbledore correctly assessing that she was in no condition to be speaking coherently.

The first thing she did when she entered their research quarters was squeeze Snape's arm in reassurance. He looked at her with some surprise; Dumbledore could easily see that display of affection. But he turned to the matter at hand, probably wanting to discuss that later.

"Lupin didn't change at all. He just looked like his pale, ragged self." He said. "We gave him three quarts in the ceramic beaker, and the only comment he had was that it tasted ever worse than the Wolfsbane." Hermione wrinkled her nose at the very thought. "He sat in his chains all night without as much as a symptom."

"How about this morning?"

"We're about to do that now." Snape picked up a bundle and led them into an antechamber, converted into a cell.

"How're you feeling now, Professor?" Hermione asked, peering into the relative darkness.

"The same, thank you Hermione." His tired voice replied. Snape lit the candles in their wall sockets, lightening the grim room.

Remus sat composed in the restraining chair, only shifting occasionally on the hard surface. Hermione could see not discernable difference in her Defence teacher. A good sign...

Snape retrieved a silver medallion from his bag, presenting it to Lupin. "Hold it."

Hermione swallowed her objections, allowing Remus to hesitantly take the object that would have usually caused him much pain.

Nothing happened.

He grinned, and held it tighter in his palm. "Does that mean I can use Sickles?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Yes, my friend."

"Excellent." Her beamed like a child being told he can eat sweets. Snape rolled his eyes.

"How abut direct contact to your scar?" Hermione suggested.

"Good idea. Remus?"

Lupin leant down and placed the silver coin on his lower leg, where Hermione could see the twisted, shiny remains of the bite. However, when it touched the area for a brief time, Remus hissed and pulled it away.

"It's not as bad as it would have been before, but there's definitely some pain there."

"You'll live." Snape said bluntly, noting this symptom on his sheet of parchment. "It is an area of concentration for the saliva."

"Anything else?"

Remus cocked his head. "I don't think I can hear as well... and you're definitely blurrier than I remember you being."

Snape nodded, pleased. "That's a good sign, unless you particularly enjoyed eavesdropping or outdoor recreation. The enhanced sense is a wolf trait that has been erased completely." He moved forward and unlocked Lupin's chains with his wand. "We'll monitor you, see if it's permanent. Any symptoms at all, come straight to me or Dumbledore."

"Of course, Severus, where else would I go?" He said impatiently. "Now can I eat?"

He left quickly after thanking Hermione for all her work, with a passing mention to Snape. Dumbledore left with him, leaving them alone.

"It worked." She said breathlessly. "If we find some of Remus' friends, we can distribute this soon."

"Secretly?" Snape said incredulously. "Do you really want to go behind the Ministry's back on this?"

She shrugged. "You know as well as I do that if we register this, they'll have trials, then tests, and then the results, and then extremely highly priced doses, and it wouldn't be worth the credit in the end. I'd rather work _with _the werewolves interests in mind, not make decisions _for_ them."

"Spoken like a true Potions Master." Snape praised, to her complete surprise. "Flamel himself never shared his greatest achievements with the Ministry. It would have been usurped, and within a decade, everyone would have their own Elixir selling on every street corner."

"Exactly... we just have to cover our tracks, and find the names of every werewolf in England- to begin with. Then in Europe, then America, then Asia..." She caught the bewildered look on his face. "Don't tell me you don't intend to share it?"

"It will cost a lot, you know... all this research has been on Dumbledore's dubious financial coattails."

"Maybe the patients should donate what they can afford, or what think is fair." She mused. "We'll figure it out. Maybe some donors..."

She found herself crushed against him once again, his nose burying itself in her hair. She held him tighter, feeling like she was anchored onto him for dear life. She could stay like that forever, never speaking, just _being_... Being with the man she loved.

Wait... _I love him_. She waited for the bombshell to hit.

It never came.

This was the first time she had admitted it to herself, but obviously her subconscious had plenty of time to think about it- and had decided that it was right.

_Who could argue with that?_ She thought ruefully.

**

**


	10. Crossed Signals

Hey there, intrepid readers!

In response to a few reviews, I realise that my spelling and grammar isn't really up to scratch in some sections; I have a good reason for this! (Really, please believe me! I love the English language as much as you guys.)

I wanted to get this story out to you before my holidays ended, and having a Beta who would pick up all my silly errors would take much longer to get updated. I am still open to any comments about improving sections of this, so keep that constructive criticism coming!

Enjoy the show... the SECOND LAST chapter! My, how time flies...

**

**

Snape had outright refused for Hermione to accompany him and Lupin on any 'outings'- mainly because they involved meeting possibly dangerous werewolves and presenting them with the cure, some of whom would be untrusting or unwilling to accept it. She understood, of course; but it didn't make the waiting any easier. Instead of working on their cure at night, she was catching up on some medical potions for Madame Pomfrey and waiting for him to return. It was beyond frustrating, but at least he gave her the report without editing- as far as she could tell.

There were some near misses, but so far all of Remus' contacts had accepted their offer and were prepared to take the cure at the next full moon. However, it soon became evident that they weren't getting all of those afflicted- many went into hiding, or weren't even registered.

"If only we had a Ministry list." Hermione sighed. "We could be missing dozens..."

"Those who are already cooperating have sent the word out, so hopefully it spreads."

"I'm still not sure that was a wise decision." Hermione frowned. "If they tell the wrong people or if someone sees through your tricks and glamour..."

"...then we're in trouble." He said bluntly, his hands never ceasing in his preparations for another burn ointment. "I'm well aware of the risks, Hermione. But if this is going to have any effect at all, we need to take a few risks."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't that be classed as 'Gryffindor stupidity' in any other situation?"

He glared at her, but she was undeterred. "I must say Severus, you _have _been losing your mean streak."

He snorted. "To you, that may be. Try telling that to Weasley later."

"What did you do?" Hermione asked cautiously, knowing an admission when she heard it.

"I merely reminded him to mind his own business."

Hermione couldn't get anything else out of him all evening.

**

**

Wednesday March 13th

She could tell Ron was in a bad mood, sitting low in his chair in classes and generally being sulky all morning. Harry didn't know what was wrong with him either, something that prodded Hermione to investigate herself.

"You've been down all day; what's bothering you?" She asked as kindly as she could, sitting next to him in the Common Room.

"Nothin'."

"Come on, Ron... you can tell me."

Snort.

"Please?"

He looked at her with a ferocity that surprised Hermione. "If you _really_ want to know, your precious Potions Professor has banned me from Quidditch for two weeks."

"_What_? Why?"

"He caught me doing something he didn't want me to do." He mumbled.

"Such as?" _Just tell me, damn it!_

"Helping Lupin with something."

That wasn't what she expected. "Details?"

"Not on your life." He snapped, launching himself from the couch and sprinting up the stairs before her jaw could even drop in shock.

"What was _that_ about?" Ginny came up with Harry in tow, noting the look of astonishment on her face. "What's he done now?"

"I haven't the faintest idea." She admitted. "He won't explicitly tell me why, but Snape banned him from Quidditch for a week for it."

"Wow. I mean, he didn't even get Detention? Just the Quidditch ban?"

"I've noticed that he hasn't been giving out as many detentions as he used to." Harry put in. "Mostly House Points or evenings with Filch or something."

"Well, we _are_ brewing a lot." Hermione said quietly. "He probably doesn't want to waste time." She didn't think it wise to mention that the cure was actually finished, and that Snape was actually out of Hogwarts most nights peddling it to werewolves. The fewer people who knew, the better.

"That still doesn't solve _why_ Ron was punished." Ginny frowned.

Hermione pursed her lips in thought. "I think I have an idea..."

**

**

Hermione's theory proved by the events of the next day, in Defence Against the Dark Arts. She surreptitiously observed how Lupin was acting around the class in comparison to Ron and herself. Having learnt a little of human body language from her sessions with Snape, she noted how his jaw tensed around them, and he often flickered his eyes in their direction before pulling them away quickly.

It didn't take a genius to know that he was uneasy.

_But why?_

She mulled it over for the rest of the day, with only half-baked conclusions. On a whim, she looked at Ron playing chess with Seamus, obviously deep in thought. Making sure that no one heard her, she said faintly, _"Legimens."_

Nothing happened.

_Concentrate, Hermione._ _"Legimens."_ She whispered again, wand in hand.

Suddenly, his mind was open to her- at first it was difficult to control, but then she managed to calm herself as Snape had mentioned in one of their discussions. She carefully dredged up the right memory, from a few weeks earlier...

"_I'm worried too, Ron." Remus was saying, the words echoing around the empty classroom. "The way she reacted upon his return was strange, to say the least. But I'm not sure..."_

"_I can help, sir!" He insisted._

_Remus thought on this. "Very well. Follow her, but for Merlin's sake don't let Snape anywhere near you. Who knows how he might react..."_

"_...he shouldn't react at all, if they're only making Potions like they claim."_

"_You never know. Slytherins are prone to overreactions."_

"_I'll be careful, Professor." Ron promised. "It's for the best."_

Flash.

_Ron pulled the Invisibility Cloak closer around his shoulders, but Hermione could see through it in the memory-state._

"_Surriptio." Ron whispered, pointing at a stone wall that Hermione couldn't identify. He laid his ear against it, his breath coming in a mist. She assumed, then, that they were in the dungeons- and he was spying on them._

_A movement to the side made both Hermione and Ron spin around. Coming forward from the shadows, Snape stepped into the corridor. With barely a glance and two non-verbal spells later, Ron was at his mercy._

_His eyes were furious, and Hermione knew that she didn't need to see this._

Hermione carefully extracted herself from his mind, noting with satisfaction that he had hardly felt her intrusion. He shook his head slightly, as though a fly was buzzing, before getting back to his strategy.

"Hermione? You kinda zoned out there..."

"I'm fine, Lavender." She said vaguely, smiling in the girl's general direction. "Just a little tired." She quickly moved to her rooms after class, needing some space to think.

So... Lupin and Ron had conspired to follow her, monitor her movements and association with Snape. It didn't come as a complete surprise; what did, however, was Snape's reaction. He had only given Ron a week's suspension; he could have been expelled for having an Invisibility Cloak alone.

She was, however, furious at Lupin. She punched her pillow ferociously, gritting her teeth and imagining all the horrible things she should do to him... didn't she expressly tell him to stay off her back? Who did he think he was anyway! Just a jilted suitor. What right did he have to question what she was doing with Snape on the nights that he wasn't out with Lupin and the Potion? _His suspicion is right, though... you _are _'with' Snape._ But that still didn't excuse it... She was fuming for a while before drifting off to sleep, dreams of vengeance in her mind's eye.

**

**

"Why'd you let him off?" Hermione asked Snape as soon as they were alone.

He knew who she was talking about, but he wanted to hear her say it. "And who might that be?"

"Please, Severus. Since when did Ron get special treatment?"

"You call a Quidditch ban 'special treatment'? It was the most appropriate punishment, and I don't have to give anyone my reasons."

He felt Hermione's frustrated gaze on him, but he kept his eyes fixed on the scroll in his hands.

"If you insist." Hermione said finally, the concession surprising him. "If you can't be honest with me..." She left it hanging ominously. He sensed a storm coming from the fiery woman, so he lifted his head.

"Hmm... a back handed attempt to coerce the answer out of me. I give you credit for trying." He shifted in his seat, forming an answer. "There were several reasons, actually. The main one being that I need all my Detention time to be with you, so that is no longer a favourable punishment. Secondary to that, however, I was under the impression that you believed my punishments were too harsh upon your friends."

"Yes..."

That I showed unpardonable favouritism towards my own House."

"Yes...?"

He shrugged, finding the uncertain gesture surprisingly easy. "So I decided that you would most likely react badly to extreme punishment."

"Usually, yes. But what Ron was doing..."

"... was morally questionable."

"It was more than that! I actually wouldn't have minded the _legitimate_ use of power in this situation which may have affected our relationship."

Snape frowned. "I can't believe I'm defending a Weasley, but he may have just been curious in his own stupid, thoughtless way."

Hermione's brown eyes went wider. "You think he was acting on his own?"

"Why, do you have a reason to believe otherwise?"

Hermione stared at his soundlessly for a few moments before nodding curtly. "I know who put him up to it..." She waited, knowing that he would draw the right conclusion.

Snape put two and two together.

"This time, I really _will _kill that meddling werewolf!" He hissed, rising to his feet and grabbing his cloak. Anger bubbled up inside him, but he kept it in check; _revenge would be sweet..._

"_Severus!_" Hermione barked, stopping his momentarily with a hand on his. "As much as I would like to see you laying into Professor Lupin-"

"Then let me _go_, Hermione..."

"-he's not actually at Hogwarts right now."

Snape narrowed his eyes, but he saw that Hermione was telling the truth. "Curse that mutt to Hell and back." He growled, casting his cloak unceremonially on a chair. "When he gets back..."

"When he gets back, I give you free rein." Hermione said with a touch of venom in her voice. "Considering I would most likely be expelled for what I have planned for him."

Snape was both pleased and unnerved to see the fury in her eyes. Now he knew why she had developed such a reputation...

_No one_ should cross Hermione Granger.

**

**

"I've been expecting you." Snape's voice floated out of the darkness, causing Lupin to jump. He spun around and saw the Potions Master sitting in a chair by the fireplace, looking quite ominously settled.

"What in the world, Severus- lurking in my chambers?" He said in bewilderment. "What do you want?"

"I come on behalf of one Miss Granger, actually." He said idly, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair. "She would be most grateful if you were to desist in following her around, and to call off your tame red-headed ape."

Lupin collected himself, slowly depositing his bags on the floor and facing him. "Come now, Severus... late night rendezvous? It's not the Cure anymore, so what is it?"

"None of your business, Lupin." He rose from his seat, a black menacing shadow. "Let's make this absolutely clear..."

Ten painful (and relatively sickening) minutes later, Lupin was repeating after Snape in a subdued voice. "I will keep my muzzle out of Hermione's life unless she so desires it, I will call off Weasley, I will only contact you in relation to the Potion, and I will..." He shot a hurt look at Snape before finishing the dictation, "... I will find myself a spine."

"Excellent." Snape sneered. "I will hold you to that... have a good night, Lupin." The feeling of triumph as he walked out of the werewolf's room was sweet.

Hermione would be thrilled.

**

**

Saturday April 6th

"How are you feeling?" Snape asked again anxiously.

She sent him a withering look. "Normal, as usual. The usual peaky pre-moon feeling, honestly. Can I go now?"

Hermione rubbed her wrists where there had been some fairly hefty chains moments before, thinking with relief that the Cure had worked for her as well. Snape had been intolerable, though; he wouldn't leave. His concern was touching, but now on the verge of too much.

Lupin too, she had heard (only through Snape, as she was only allowed contact with Lupin in class, a restriction which she followed gratefully) that Lupin's cure had lasted another moon without needing a booster. It was great news, hopefully that could be sustained over long periods of time- or even for a lifetime, Hermione was praying.

The moon was still high in the sky, but she could tell that the wolf consciousness was _asleep_; it didn't feel the urge to assert itself, mentally or physically.

After once again reassuring Snape that she was fine, and accepting a brief squeeze of the hand, she made her way back to the Dormitories.

Hermione felt slightly surreal to be walking back to the Tower in the full moonlight, but she guessed it was stranger for Lupin and the long term werewolves. A wicked thought entered her mind; she changed her track from her Head Girl rooms to the common room.

It was buzzing as usual, not as rowdy as it got some nights, but still deep in merriment. She entered the room, looking around for her friends.

Neville was the first to see her; with a startled squeal, he dived behind the sofa, valiantly dragging Ron down with him and ignoring the protests as drink was spilled. "Hermione!" He squeaked.

Ginny's jaw dropped. Harry's wand was out instantly, on guard. Ron peeked over the back of the lounge, his eyes wide and frightened beyond his wits.

"Grr." She growled, bearing her teeth, causing another strangled cry from Neville.

She threw back her head and laughed, only explaining it to them after savouring the expressions on their pale and cautious faces.

A very Slytherin move; obviously it was a trait that she could very well get used to.

**

**


	11. Conclusive Smiles

I honestly can't believe it—the end of all things! I suppose it had to come eventually, but it's still a shock. Now I actually have to focus on _real work _*shudder*

Anyway, hope you have enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it; thanks for all your comments, and good luck for any future stories of your own!

**

**

A FEW MONTHS LATER

Good morning, this is the Department for the Reasonable Restriction of Dangerous Wizards, what is your business today?" The secretary smiled at Hermione pleasantly, a flicker of near-fear going across her countenance as she saw Snape lurking behind the visitor.

"Werewolf Services, pelase." Hermione said brightly. "I believe we have an appointment."

The woman swallowed, straightening her robes nervously. The front slipped a bit. "Ah. Last door on the right, please."

"Thankyou, Miss Flander." Snape said silking, steering Hermione in the right direction and away from the red faced witch.

"Poor woman." Hermione chuckled. "She didn't know what hit her."

Snape nodded slightly in agreement. "Always was a timid student- possibly in the wrong line of work."

Hermione opened the door without pausing, confidence in every movement. There was only one desk visible inside, the rest of the long office shrouded in darkness. A man sat at the polished wood table, scribbling furiously- the very picture of a bureaucrat. Snape cleared his throat, loathed to be ignored.

The man glanced up reluctantly, but they soon had his full attention. He sprang to his feet. "Pr-Professor Snape! We've been expecting you, and your-" His eyes flickered towards Hermione, obvious surprise on his features.

"My werewolf?" Snape said dryly. "Yes, this is she. Now get on with it, you bumbling excuse for a wizard."

"Y-yes, of course." He sat heavily, retrieving a form with a flick of his wand from somewhere in the recesses of the office. "Details, please..."

Hermione dutifully recorded all her facts, waiting for the inevitable test.

"We need to see your bite for identification purposes, and a small test by silver." He said, trying to downplay it. "If you would..."

Hermione pulled down the neck of her robes, revealing the shiny pink scar. Then the real test- he passed her a block of pure Silver.

Nothing happened.

The clerk swallowed. "There appears to be..."

"There is no problem, Dawkins." Snape sneered. "You may have been aware of a certain _cure_ being peddled to werewolves throughout Britain- don't deny it, I know you have records of this sort of thing. Miss Granger is merely a recipient of this, and poses no threat to society."

"Be that as it may, she must be Registered and Monitored, just like all the others, until this supposed 'cure' is proven." He said it with a tone that lacked conviction; Hermione was about to pounce on it when another voice came out of the office, behind the desk clerk.

"No, she must not." A grizzled man stepped out of the shadows, carrying a large stack of parchment with no apparent difficulty. He shoved in front of the timid man, addressing all of them with an air of a scholar. "You know the rule, Dawkins. No silver reaction, no record- _officially_. However, in this case, where a werewolf must be accepted as part of this man's plea bargain... we need a medium path. As Director of this sub-Department, I declare that this woman's record shall be taken down as truth, promptly lost in the Ministry paperwork system, but the Registration of a _singular individual_ today a matter of record."

"So, to clarify- Hermione will be officially registered, but her name is confidential?" Snape pressed.

"That's it. Not even the Minister can find a piece of parchment in this mess."

Dawkins looked lost, but he reluctantly followed his superior's orders. The old grey man was careful to bury the evidence deep within the archives.

An Obliviate later, and Dawkins didn't even remember their visit. The man chuckled in his dusty way; Lupin had been explicit in his instructions of the matter, and they had been followed to the letter. As a fellow werewolf, he wasn't about to betray one, was he?

Snape and Hermione were already long gone, Flooing out of the Ministry separately before anyone had even realised their reason for being there initially.

"That went remarkably well." He remarked to her as they left the Ministry, walking back down a busy London street.

"It was a foolproof plan, Severus." Hermione smiled. She still thrilled to hear his name coming out of her mouth, and she could tell that he enjoyed its casual nature as well.

"We both have the credit." He reminded her, holding onto her upper arm and guiding her gently through the Muggle crowd. They both stopped simultaneously when they saw the perfect scene as they approached the crest of the hill; London was stretched out beneath them, washed over with the pale light of the moon. Hermione noted with a pang that it was full; she didn't even notice anymore, and neither did all the werewolves they had saved. They were all free, and no one could take that feeling away from them.

She turned to him, a smile coming to her face. She was delighted to see that an identical grin had reached his face, a genuine and vulnerable expression that took her breath away.

She held herself closer, now facing him. Although she missed the heightened scent of him, there was still more than enough to reach her human senses. She reached up without thinking, placing one hand on his chest.

"What you were saying earlier... about a summer trip through Europe for the Cure..."

"You may recall that the Potion wasn't the first reason on my mind." He replied with his velvet tones.

"Something _does_ come to mind." She admitted. "Though what happened next was more interesting..."

They repeated it, Snape pulling Hermione into a long and passionate kiss with no inhibitions. Breathless and with a light head, Hermione looked deep into his endless eyes.

**

After their kiss, he looked deep into her brown expressive eyes, feeling at peace once again. Only she could make him feel that way, make him so thankful for being alive and not giving up along the long journey- and it had been long, almost too much to bear.

There was a flicker of something in her eyes... a growing streak of amber, no, _yellow_... for an instant, her eyes were those of a wolf.

Then the moment was gone, and he began to doubt if he had ever seen it. Deciding that it was unimportant, he pulled her in close again, deciding on what he had to say.

"A summer in Europe..." He considered. "I've changed my mind."

A flicker of confusion went across her face. He was quick to placate her, slipping a stray strand of hair behind her ear with infinite care. He would never get over how vulnerable she looked in that moment...

"How about a lifetime... without limitations?"

Her eyes filled with tears, and he felt a momentary fear that she would refuse.

She pulled him closer, holding onto his hand with a fervent strength. Her reply made his heart leap out of his chest and into hers.

"When do we leave?"

FINIS


End file.
